Again
by A. LaRosa
Summary: Multi-pairings, one-shot collection. Most likely to take place post-Promised Day, after the series. Review!
1. Magnets: Ed, Winry, Al

**Disclaimer**: Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing.

Here I am, starting this collection of one-shots for my favorite characters/pairings. Most of these will be prompts given to me, but I feel like I'm just going to continue on going with these one-shots until the flame of inspiration goes out.

I hope you enjoy, and I urge you to review in order to let me know how you like my writing. Thanks!

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Al, slight Ed/Winry

_May 30, 2009_

* * *

"Where did you find those?" he asked, eyeing up his brother that was now covered in magnets.

_Kitten_ magnets.

He didn't know what was more unmanly... that his brother was gleeful at the prospect of always having kittens around him or that he, himself, thought it was endearing how excited his brother was. He was going soft, he knew it.

Soon he'd be milking cows and wearing light colors.

The least his brother could do was put them on the inside of the armor.

"Winry found them for me in town!" Al said, smiling as he moved a magnet from one spot on his armor to another, as if the kitten was running across the plain of his broad chest plate. "It was so sweet of her to buy them for me."

"A waste of money, if you ask me," Ed grumbled, stretching his arms over his head as he watched his little brother be amused by the plethora of magnets he was adorned with.

"Well, you're not the one who bought them, are you?" Winry responded, moving to set next to Ed while they lounged in the field against the hillside. "Besides, it's not like you'd ever shut up if he found himself a real kitten. Be grateful I didn't come back with a litter like I had originally wanted to do."

"It was probably my money you bought them with," he said, immediately wishing he didn't say that statement when he saw the anger flash in her eyes.

"I _do_ earn my own money, you know! I do more than babysit you and tend to your injuries, Edward," she frowned as she grumbled, leaning back into the grass.

"I know, I know," he sighed, lying back in the grass with her. Arm to flesh arm, they watched the clouds above them pass by slowly.

There was a bout of silence, and then Al asked, "When I get my body back, can we please get a kitten?"

"No."

"Of course you can, Al!"

As both responses were said in unison, they glared at one another due to their opposite reactions.

Ed tried to level with his brother in the most realistic way possible. "A kitten is impractical. It'll grow up and die and then you'll be depressed for months. Think ahead, Al."

"So you're saying that people shouldn't have children, either, since they'll just grow up and die. You're so touching I don't know what to do with myself," she said sarcastically, elbowing his side. Feeling that further conversation would be pointless with the elder Elric, she turned on her side, her cheek against the cool grass.

"Hey, hey," he protested. "That's not what I meant..." he trailed off, feeling that his point was exactly that but on a lesser scale. "Come on," he said gently, trying to pull her to her previous position.

"What if Winry wants to have children one day, brother? Are you going to tell her that she shouldn't since they'll just grow up and die? Everyone has to deal with that sometime in their life," his voice seemed even more hollow as he spoke. Surely, his own mother came to mind when speaking. Ed didn't miss that, either.

He was also sure that if a suit of armor could give a knowing look, what he was receiving was it.

Ed grumbled. "As long as I'm not the one who has to deal with it, fine."

Al wondered if he meant the kitten or a child. He hoped it was the former, for all their sakes.

Winry, however, was still off in her own little world ever since Al brought the word 'children' into the conversation. It wasn't as if she hadn't thought of such a thing before, but the topic hadn't been brought up with Ed so close in proximity. Ed, taking her silence as a continuation of her previous cold front, propped himself up on one arm and peered over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of her face. "Are you mad?" he asked in a hushed tone, as if Al could avoid hearing him anyway. She nearly jumped out of her skin at his breath on her neck.

Her face was red, he could tell, but he didn't know what that meant besides her dissipating anger. She just shook her head, allowing Ed to pull her back to her previous position. Grumbling a small apology, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders as an act of affection he normally didn't give.

"Admit the kittens are cute," Winry said, playfully smiling at him.

He blankly stared at her, which she took for his 'are you kidding me' look and she smiled sweetly back at him.

"No."

"Brother, just accept that they're cute."

"No!"

As he was about to run his automail hand through his hair, he noticed that his mechanical arm had been adorned with half of the various kitten magnets that had once been on Al's frame. "Al!" When the hell did he do that?

"What? Winry's a good distraction for revenge," Al reasoned.

"Don't remind me," Ed sighed, looking down at the kitten magnets with a weary smile before turning that smile to Winry who had reached over to push a magnet across her creation.

Alright, the kittens were cute. (Like he was actually watching the kittens.) He'd be damned if he ever said that out loud, however.


	2. Negligee: Maes, Gracia

**Disclaimer**: Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing.

Here I am, starting this collection of one-shots for my favorite characters/pairings. Most of these will be prompts given to me, but I feel like I'm just going to continue on going with these one-shots until the flame of inspiration goes out.

I hope you enjoy, and I urge you to review in order to let me know how you like my writing. Thanks!

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Maes/Gracia

_June 2, 2009_

* * *

He laid there with those gaudy purple pajama bottoms she always questioned with his face in a book, as usual. His legs were casually crossed as he leaned against the pillows.

Feeling that she had been patient enough, Gracia pulled the book from his hands and replaced the text he had been reading with her cleavage, hoping he would get the hint and forget about work for a little while. His eyes darted between the book and her cleavage, as if weighing what would be better to choose at that present moment in time. Like he needed to think about that for even a second. He chose his favorite out of the two, naturally. Glad over his decision, Gracia crawled into his lap, straddling his waist to get more comfortable.

Maes grinned that lazy smile at her before adjusting his glasses to get a better look at her. "Hello, gorgeous," he said softly, reaching a hand up her leg to rest on her thigh. He played with the fringe of her white negligee. "This makes you look so pure."

"Maybe I am," she smiled, leaning forward.

"You and I both know that's not the case," he closed the distance, kissing her softly on the lips.

"That's not entirely my fault," she chuckled softly, pulling off his glasses and placing them on the night stand.

"Blaming me, now, are you?" he asked, sliding his other hand up onto her other thigh before pushing it underneath the hem of her nightgown.

"I could be," she giggled as he grasped her backside before moving up to her hips in order to flip them around. "But not really."

"Mmm," Maes leaned back to fully view his wife underneath him with as much visibility he could muster without his glasses on. He pressed kisses along her collarbone before dipping down to her breasts. "You always need to take off my glasses, don't you? You know you're beautiful..." He knew that she was self-conscious in fifth month of pregnancy, but she was truly beautiful... and if her breasts would continue to swell, he would be one happy husband.

"Says you. I'm pregnant." She gave him a look that he clearly caught before he tugged her negligee up. "Let your vision be fuzzy."


	3. Figure of Speech: Roy, Riza

**Disclaimer**: Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing.

Here I am, starting this collection of one-shots for my favorite characters/pairings. Most of these will be prompts given to me, but I feel like I'm just going to continue on going with these one-shots until the flame of inspiration goes out.

I hope you enjoy, and I urge you to review in order to let me know how you like my writing. Thanks!

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Roy, Riza

_June 4, 2009_

* * *

He glanced over at the mound of paperwork on his desk, wanting nothing more than to set it all on fire and be done with it. But, no, the ever-present eye that was trained on him (like a hawk, he added mentally with a hint of amusement) wouldn't let him do such a thing. She probably got her kicks from watching him suffer. That sounded about right.

The worst thing was, he couldn't talk back without fear of a gun pointed in his direction. She wouldn't shoot, he knew, but she would fire warning shots and those scared him enough without even making contact.

The more work he did, the bigger the pile seemed to grow.

Something wasn't right.

"Lieutenant, do you keep adding more papers to the stack without me noticing or is this pile procreating with itself?" Roy sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose.

"I think you're hallucinating," the blonde replied with a roll of her eyes. She didn't have to look up from her desk to know he was having a staring contest with the documents that needed to be looked over.

He shot her a look, which was ignored, as she rifled through her own drawers in search of something. Heaving yet another sigh, laced with a groan, he picked up the pen that had dropped from his grasp. Taking another look at the mound of paperwork, he internally questioned why it was him that did such a thing in the first place. Wasn't he supposed to be on his way to the top? He should have people do this for him.

Another look at Hawkeye changed that thought to the, "Fuck me," he muttered while reading over the text that was on the page. It was going to be a long day, he sensed it.

"If you get your paperwork done."

He gaped at Riza for almost a full minute before he realized that he was wasting precious time.

His fingers had never moved so fast in his entire life.


	4. Advice: Roy, Ed, Riza, Winry

**Disclaimer**: Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing.

Here I am, starting this collection of one-shots for my favorite characters/pairings. Most of these will be prompts given to me, but I feel like I'm just going to continue on going with these one-shots until the flame of inspiration goes out.

I hope you enjoy, and I urge you to review in order to let me know how you like my writing. Thanks!

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Ed, Roy, mentions of Riza and Winry

_June 6, 2009_

* * *

One afternoon, the Flame Alchemist overheard the periodic table of elements as two blondes in bathing suits walked closer to the water. It was a time for relaxation, and with the weather actually being nice, the lake nearby the Rockbell home was perfect.

"Ooh, so that's your thing," Roy said as the realization dawned on him. Every guy had their own system to work down frustration and yearning, so he should've guessed that Edward's would've been something so obvious.

A pause. "What thing?"

"That chanting of the periodic table of elements to distract yourself from a certain female wearing a certain bathing suit that just happens to be jumping up and down over–" he stopped, knowing that any other words that tried to break free wouldn't be heard.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." His mouth may have said so, but his eyes were elsewhere.

"Don't play me, Fullmetal, you know exactly what I'm talking about. Want to get past it?"

Once the women were shoulder-deep in the water, Ed finally averted his eyes to... would he call him his friend? Maybe, now. "If I did, what could you say that would help me? Who says I need help?"

"Well, first you have to admit that you're in love with her."

"I am not–"

"Before you outright deny me and lie to my face, how about you listen to a few questions and determine from there? It may be more subtle than you think, or more obvious." It was obvious.

"...alright."

"No matter what she wears, does she appear alluring to you? She could be wearing a paper bag, but she'd still appeal to you anyway? Tube top, short skirt, mechanics' overalls–"

"Yes, yes! I get it!" he responded with exasperation, throwing his hands up in the air to emphasize such frustration.

He looked out to the water in order to help inspire more questions to prove that the older Elric was far beyond 'just friends' with his mechanic. Riza was idling in the water, listening to whatever Winry had to say to her; whatever the young girl said made Riza smile. He continued, "Do you feel nervous for no apparent reason when she smiles at you like everything's all right in the world?"

Ed turned to look out at the two women, as well, as Roy continued–he knew he didn't even need to ask that kind of question. He already knew the answer.

"If there is even a rumor of her being in pain or discomfort, do you feel it necessary to seek her out and at least hear her voice to console yourself?"

"Of course," he responded without any hesitation this time, knowing that by doing such a thing in his past, he was just looking out for her. "She needs to be out of harm's way or I wouldn't forgive myself if anything happened to her." He watched Winry splash lamely at Riza who splashed back before going under to wet her hair.

"Alright," he nodded. This question would seal his fate. "Last question: when she hugs you, what do you pay attention to the most?" Sure, any male would have a certain reaction at a beautiful female, but to someone of Edward's mindset, who was focused solely on alchemy and science, registering what breasts were was a huge step.

He thought for a second, and by the young alchemist's cheeks turning lightly pink, Roy knew that he was right. "Exactly. So, now that it's evident that you're in love with her, what are you going to do about it?"

Ed somehow felt that his current situation would deal with itself. "... do about it? Why do I have to do anything?"

"You're not going to leave her single so that some random country boy can come sweep her away from you, are you? Or, heaven forbid, another automail enthusiast? What happens then?"

Alright, so Ed didn't like the idea of someone else sweeping her off of her workbench. "Why are you helping me, anyway? What do you have to earn from this?"

"Besides the office pool that's been going on for over a year, you deserve happiness," he said, clapping the shorter–yet growing–male on the shoulder. "Besides, I know that feeling of the 'does she–doesn't she' limbo and it quite sucks."

"What happened with you, then? Did you figure out the limbo?"

"It turns into a tango. Fullmetal, do you know what 'getting laid' means?"


	5. Jellybeans: Ed, Winry

**Disclaimer**: Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing.

I hope you enjoy, and I urge you to review in order to let me know how you like my writing. Thanks!

This prompt started with the intent of being cutesy (and full of short jokes) but wound up being kind of... deep?

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Ed/Winry

_June 30, 2009_

* * *

Walking back from their shopping trip into town, they returned to the Rockbell residence. Ed's hands were full with the actual shopping, and even though he wasn't all that happy to lug back the heavy bags, he didn't complain. As he set them down on the counter, he noted Winry happily humming to herself while peeking into the bags he had put down.

The tune of her hum picked up as she found what she was looking for, a song he was unfamiliar with but found endearing. The colored jellybeans that were continuously being popped into her mouth were catching his attention after the plastic bag opened.

After a few contented noises, he decided to speak up. "What's so good about those? What are they, beans?"

She gave him a look, speaking as if it were obvious thing in the world to know. "Candy."

He didn't appreciate that look. "Ah."

"You know, they remind me of you... not just one, but the collection of them together," she said after pondering for a couple minutes. She still looked thoughtful as she continued to eat, but put the bag down when _that look_ crossed his face. "What?"

"Care to explain?" he asked, arms crossed over his chest with an eyebrow raised.

"These are like your merry-go-round of moods... some are delicious, some are alright, some are disgusting, and–"

"You think I'm disgusting? Oh, _thanks_, Win," he responded, rolling his eyes as he pulled the milk out of the bag–not before making a face at it as he placed it in the refrigerator. Pushing the latch back down, he went back to watching her display.

"I'm talking about the flavors. I love the taste of these colors," she sectioned off the jellybeans, putting the pink, yellow, and green ones to one side. "Those can stand for determination, passion, and sense of humor." The sectioned off the red, purple, and orange jellybeans and put them in the middle of the counter. "These are alright, but I wouldn't go for them first. These can stand for scientific skill, the need to put yourself last–selflessly, and intelligence." Then, she moved the white and black jellybeans to the other side. "These can stand for your temper," she pointed to the white jellybean, "and your self-loathing," the black jellybean. "Sometimes I can love the white jellybean–only in certain-sized dosages, but I always throw the black ones away."

"Wait a second," he held up a finger. "Did I just get my personality evaluated by a bunch of jellybeans?"

She chuckled, pushing the jellybeans she had picked out back into the bag, but not before throwing the black jellybean away (to emphasize her point), "I'd say so."


	6. Restless: Winry

**Disclaimer**: Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing.

I hope you enjoy, and I urge you to review in order to let me know how you like my writing. Thanks!

This chapter is solely mangaverse.

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Winry (_with hints of Ed/Winry_)

_July 12, 2009_

* * *

No matter how many times she tried to school her emotions, her heart ached painfully whenever his name came up in conversation; or, if her thoughts ever strayed to his well-being, which was often enough, she would worry and stress herself.

He wasn't dead, no, but his life was so dangerous, he might as well be on the fast track to his grave. That, in itself, was one of her biggest fears. One day, she feared, news would come to her door from the military; she would be like the wife that had been left behind without actually being so. She wanted to see him and Al walk just as the sun rose, seeing their silhouettes in the distance slowly getting bigger.

When he was beside her, she held onto him so tightly, as if he would vanish or fade away if she let go. He joked, saying that she was going to crack a couple of his ribs if she kept that up, but knew that it was something she needed to do. The painful ache turned to a dull throb whenever she looked into his eyes; she was almost swayed into believing everything would be alright. Maybe someday, but surely not now. Her happiness would always be just a little bit out of her grasp.

She couldn't cry. She wouldn't allow herself to. She had promised him that she would be brave, that she would be strong.

Crying, even if her eyes were brimming with tears and the need was overwhelming, was a sign of giving in to what she hoped would never be true.

An apple pie to be kept warm: that's all that he wanted from her. She hoped otherwise, fully ready to offer herself in exchange (how equivalent would that be?) for all of his hard work and dedication. At least... she kept telling herself that, and made it a point to not chicken out if the time ever came to tell her how she really felt.

There was only so long she could pretend that the worry was like that of a sister's for her brothers in peril.

It was only a matter of time before she realized that one brother meant something different to her than the other.

Her nerves had never been so tightly wound together, so on edge, in her life–except, maybe, when he had first come to her, so tiny in his brother's arms on that stormy night.

The Promised Day was upon them, so dark and yet bright over the horizon.

She didn't know what to do with herself.

She paced and paced, as if she were an expectant father waiting for the birth of his first child. She tried to busy herself with tinkering at her automail arms and legs that had been lying around the basement (where she was forcibly staying), but nothing could distract her mind from the well being of her two best friends.

She was doing more harm than good to her mind. Sleeping was out of the question. The second she lied down and closed her eyes, images of a bipolar nature came to mind. Images of Ed sweeping her off her feet and pushing her down onto that very same bed she was lying on, his two flesh arms holding onto her tightly. When she tried to push those images out of her brain with a heated blush across her cheeks, she was reminded that the outcome could possibly be horrible, and the image of him, bloody, torn, and lifeless made itself known.

She couldn't sleep even if she wanted to.

Exhausted wore her thin, dreams of a happy future fueling her, pushing her forward. She wouldn't look back, no matter how much she felt the need to.

She needed to move forward...

... for the both of them.


	7. Dance: Roy, Riza

**Disclaimer**: Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing.

Anime or manga, you know this feeling and intensity exists.

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Roy/Riza

_July 30, 2009_

* * *

Preparations were all the same, no matter the time, event, or location. Clothing would be chosen, transportation arranged, appearance ameliorated. Eyes would meet, smiles flirting with disaster, secret touches lingering too long, however unnoticed by wandering eyes–or so they believed. This dance took place on eggshells, no matter how much it seemed they were dancing on clouds.

Dancing throughout the day, keeping formalities in the workplace, was the hardest of the dances they partook in. Paperwork, however accessible a ruse, consistently worked. With his military pants pooled around his ankles, her back against the stall and feet off the ground, she would hardly call what they were doing a beautiful dance.

It was a form of regular exercise.

They danced, their movements fluid yet precise, perfected after years of practice. Dancing through life, around truths, throughout wars, through lies... until they knew the dance by heart.

There were no references, no instructions, to these steps. This dance was full of trial and error, beginning with awkward steps and stubbed toes... but they continued, blinded by an emotion almost forgotten by the younger generations, regardless of the feeling of dread looming ahead, and danced to their hearts' content.

At formal functions, however, intimacy was indulged for the sake of propriety. Who would attend a ball to stand around? An arm at his neck, a hand clasped in his, they spun on the dance floor. The look in his eyes was promising, and a man such as Mustang would always keep his word.

He would chivalrously escort her home, refusing any excuses she could possibly give to deter him. With the alcohol laced in her veins, as in his, the need to continue dancing was acceptable and encouraged.


	8. Valkyrie: Roy, Riza

**Author's Note**: Rebecca, I hate you for giving me this prompt so long ago in correlation as to what's happening now with the manga.

_In Norse mythology, a __**valkyrie**__ (Old Norse valkyrja "chooser of the slain") is one of a host of female figures who choose who will die in battle. Valkyries also appear as lovers of heroes and other mortals, where they are sometimes described as the daughters of royalty, etc._

**!! Here are spoilers up to the most recent chapter of the manga (100) !!  
**

**

* * *

**

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Roy/Riza

_October 10, 2009_

* * *

**Her hero, his hero.**

Her love for Roy Mustang went unnoticed for years before it all came rearing to a head.

She coated each word with a lie, laced truths together with the impossible, all for his sake. She would follow him anywhere, support him in whatever endeavor he wished to partake in, even for the most dim-witted of causes. She stood up for him when he hardly believed in himself, held him up when otherwise he felt weak. She was his spine, his voice of reason, and his will to continue forward. He fought, led, and protected for her and only her.

One, then another, and then two more—until the amount was uncountable—had recognized her dormant (or so she thought) love that she had attempted to suppress. There were more important things to worry about. She couldn't hide her strong devotion to her childhood friend, war comrade, and presently, her Colonel. When he began to catch on, she thought nothing would be the same.

It wasn't, but not in the way that she originally assumed.

He hadn't been hiding his affection as well as she had; he wasn't really trying to, either.

Riza Hawkeye was not your average individual. She was adept in sharpshooting, could put any person rightly so in their place, and looked damn sexy (not her own words) while doing both.

If she had to count how many times she had found herself in a horrible situation due to this man she was so blindly loyal to, she would need all ten fingers and toes. Despite this complaint, she would continue to watch his back, make sure he was safe, and… sacrifice herself if need be.

Appalled was an understatement of his at how many times that last statement had come into play in their short lives.

The snap, the almost audible, visible snap that took place the second that blade slid across her neck… he felt it.

He felt his conscious break away and dissipate into nothingness. He had lost Maes, his best friend, and if he had to lose Riza now… he would follow her immediately, future of Amestris be damned, with no questions or thinking necessary.

He had toppled off center when Hughes had died, but to have his First Lieutenant, someone so important to him, killed at the hands of the enemy as well? He had already been up shit's creek when King Bradley knew his weakness, but this… this…

He would go down in a blazing inferno, taking everyone with him; he would expect nothing less from her if the situation were flipped. They were each other's pillars of strength.

Without one, the other would topple down.

The breath he had been holding seemed lodged in his throat, waiting for the tumble down his throat. Impatiently, he pulled on the men who had been holding him steady.

With the eyes of Riza's assailant bearing into the back of his skill, he knew what he had to do.


	9. And Baby Makes Three: Ed, Winry

**Disclaimer: **Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing.

**Author's Note**: This was written for the fmagiftexchange over on LJ to the prompt of "future stuff, like having a baby" and whatnot, so here that is. :)

This is also known as "_And Baby Makes Three_."

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Ed/Winry

_December 30, 2009_

_

* * *

  
_

Ed was always the man who wanted to learn, to explore. Having a child, a baby girl at that, was definitely a learning experience. Feedings at odd hours, diaper changes, and the occasional piercing cry… those were just the preliminaries. Even if his mother were around to help, he still would've been over his head. Regardless, he would've still been over his head and enjoying it. He may have griped, complained, whined and moaned, but when he would lay around with his little girl, it almost choked him up how in awe of her he was. It choked him up how easily he would throw his life away for hers.

He had never been more grateful for sleepless nights in his lifetime.

The miracle of birth was one thing. When Winry had told him that she was pregnant, fresh into their new marriage, he didn't know how to grasp the news. After it had settled, of course, he was off the walls with excitement. The biology of creating a new life—the one time he could actually create life and be happy with giving a piece of himself up—had occurred.

The actual pregnancy was a nightmare. Winry was already moody as it was without the extra hormones going crazy. The extra bout of horniness that came with the pregnancy was a pleasant surprise, but other than that, he made sure to be extra attentive and to try and stay as far away from fighting as he could. The keyword was 'try' and that effort didn't last long. They were fighting about every little thing, about how he wasn't reading the baby books when she asked him to—see: yelled at him for an hour. At that point, they were fed up with each other, skirting around the house to avoid each other.

As he and Winry normally did, they fell back into being with each other silently. He slept in the bed again when she told him she was lonely, and they made gentle love when she described the extent of her loneliness. She felt ugly, and Ed proved to her in many ways that she was the most beautiful creature on the planet.

• • •

The fight to get Winry to stop working was the biggest fight of them all. She wanted to continue tinkering with her automail, even for a little bit each day. He sat with her, once, and the amount of times he saw her cringe in discomfort or mess up something and cry decided for him that he would keep her from working until the baby came. She ordered a compromise. He couldn't do alchemy until the baby was born, either. Why should she be the one to give up her passion?

Ed begrudgingly accepted the compromise and began to read the baby books as if they were thriller novels, his nose deep into the page before flipping eagerly to the next one. When she saw his excitement towards the subject of their unborn child, Winry made him a luxurious dinner that night.

Pinako would've been proud.

• • •

The labor had been difficult for the both of them. Ed almost lost his other hand because of her iron grip; when there were threats of replacing another piece of his anatomy with automail, he pushed more and more ice into his wife's mouth in order to cool her down.

Every bit of anger had been forgotten immediately when the small, almost too small, wiggling, wailing bundle was placed in Winry's arms. Ed stood there with his arm around his wife, too in awe to speak. This woman, the woman he had fallen in love with so long ago, had created life with him. She had delivered life before and he was so taken with her in that moment; now, she was on the other side of that process, and he couldn't love her any less than he did at that moment.

"I've been waiting for you," Winry spoke, and the baby hushed at the sound of her mother's voice. "We've both been waiting for you, baby."

Ed nodded, not trusting his voice. His throat constricted roughly with every swallow as he watched his two girls. He knew he was close to crying, but he wouldn't say a word to give that away.

• • •

When Winry had begun breastfeeding, well… that was an interesting day in their household. No matter how many times she did it, it caught him off guard.

Edward had come home from a trip to into the town in order to pick up some necessities. He saw her with her top open with the baby nestled against her breast having a meal. The small tuft of blonde hair on his daughter's head was resting against the milky skin of his wife's breast.

The bag had dropped from his hand and fell to the ground with a loud thud. His mouth was open as if he wanted to say something, anything, but couldn't. He knew this was a natural, beautiful thing. He knew. He also knew that he should be used to seeing her breasts. The act, however, was so overtly maternal and natural that it brought him right back to that state of awe. Awe and arousal for what that development could mean for them when the time to have sex came back around for them again.

"Would this be the only way you'd drink milk?" Winry asked without looking up at him to see his expression. She knew how taken he was with her breasts, already, and how he enjoyed suckling on them in the same manner.

"Maybe," he replied, his voice rough as he continued to watch the scene before him. He wasn't able to tear his eyes away. "Just maybe."

• • •

The amount of pictures Ed carried around in his wallet almost, almost rivaled a certain man—may he rest in peace—and his collection.

When Winry had gone into his wallet to grab a tip for the milkman, she couldn't help but laugh. She had approached her husband who was lying on the couch with their little one resting on his chest. In the hand that wasn't holding her was a book.

"I'm sure a picture of Sarah throwing up would complete the collection of her life in your wallet." She pouted. "You don't even have a picture of me in there. There's Al in here with the baby, but not me. Was I out of the country when your little photo shoot occurred?"

"Why were you in my wallet?" he questioned, keeping his voice low and movement little in order to not wake the slumbering child.

"I had to grab a couple of cenz. Besides, that's not what we're talking about. I didn't even know we had a camera."

"I borrowed it."

"From? Oh, no," she said, giving him a wry look. She already knew. "You didn't borrow it from Roy, did you?"

"I could only keep it for a couple of days, though," he said, frowning. "I wanted it for a week but he wouldn't let me."

"You still owe him money," she said, referring to the money he borrowed before the Promised Day and his agreement of giving it back when he became Fuhrer. "Why would he let you keep his camera? I'm sure he needs to harass his children with it, too."

"It's not harassment!"

"Oh, please. If Mr. Hughes were around to see you… you and Roy, even… he would have a field day laughing at your sorry asses."

"No, he wouldn't!"

"Oh, and why is that?"

"He would be sharing his pictures, too."

• • •

Ed would never say it out loud, but having a baby girl had made him softer than he used to be. He became more patient, just as a parent had to be. To have someone rely on him and give him unconditional love was what he didn't know he needed. He didn't know the piece of his heart that had been torn out by the death of his mother could be replaced by being a parent, himself.

Sarah may have been a brat, but she was his brat.

With blond hair and bright blue eyes, it was hard to say that this child was anything but beautiful. She would grow into her own and be even more gorgeous—especially in his eyes. But even now, fragile and new to the world, she was his, and that in itself gave him more hope for the future than anything else in his lifetime had.


	10. Nipples: Ed, Winry, Al

**Disclaimer: **Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing.

**Author's Note**: This was a totally silly idea based on me looking the mirror and realizing something. You can guess what.

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Ed/Winry

_January 8, 2010_

_

* * *

  
_

Edward didn't know if the action was deliberate, but he wasn't going to let her know that her white tank top was practically see-through. He wasn't going to give up the luxury she had bestowed upon him. Was she trying to lead him on with her body? Doubtful, but a possibility. Was he going to pretend that she was, anyway, regardless of the truth? Absolutely. Really, though, she could probably turn on a tree—wait, that would turn into an awfully bad, perverted joke.

It was a sweltering summer day in Resembool. Both Ed and Al were wearing less clothing than usual, changing from long pants and jackets to shorts and tank tops to accommodate. Ever since Al had gotten his body back, he went through little bouts of exhibitionism, which was ignored by the rest of the household. Pinako more or less expected all three teenagers to be in various states of undress. The older woman went about her business otherwise.

Winry, never the person who wore as many clothes as they did at one time, opted for even less than usual—which meant, to Edward, that she didn't bother putting a bra on.

He wondered: was she even wearing underwear? She _was_ wearing a skirt… but… wouldn't that be too dangerous? She already wasn't wearing a bra. He pondered these questions as if they required textbook analysis to support them. He was serious.

When his imagination ran rampant with the visible curves and points of her breasts and then some, he failed to notice his younger brother's open stare at his behavior as he entered the room. Following his line of vision, Alphonse saw exactly what he was staring at.

"I'm going to ruin brother's fun with this, I'm sure, but are you aware that your nipples are fully visible through your top?" Al asked bluntly, ignoring his brother's obvious gawking.

"What? Al!" Ed groaned, but then coughed to cover his disappointment. He crossed his legs just in case.

"She has a right to know!" Al argued, gesturing at their longtime friend.

"I didn't put a bra on this morning," she shrugged. "It's not like you've never seen nipples before in your life, right?"

Ed sputtered, "But… but… they're _your_ _nipples_."

"Your point? I see yours all the time."

"Only certain people," what he meant was only himself, but he wasn't going to say that out loud, "should see them! Right?" He turned to his brother. "Right, Al?"

The younger Elric started to back out of the bedroom. "I'm just going to step away from this conversation altogether."

Winry rolled her eyes at them both before commenting to the retreating Al, "Good man."

"I'm right, though!" Ed yelled. He paused. "How am I wrong?"

"If I was going to be going outside, out of the house, I'd put a bra on. Right now, I'm not. How is this even an arguing point?" she asked, crossing her arms underneath her chest.

He groaned. "Okay, if you're not going to wear a bra, at least don't… don't _do_ that!"

"Do what?" She looked down, then back up at him. "Oh, this?"

With a wicked grin, Winry took a step towards him as she pushed up her breasts even more, leaning forward, knowing exactly what she was doing to him. They strained against the fabric of her tank top, providing even more cleavage. She didn't need any more cleavage. Any more cleavage and she'd be topless. Wait, why was he arguing again?

When she got too close, he squirmed. "Winry!" he whined, attempting to swat her away without grazing her beautiful breasts. That would later result in a wrench to the skull—or somewhere worse—that he didn't feel like receiving.

"What?" she asked innocently before standing upright again. She sized him up and down, making him feel even more uncomfortable. Why did it feel like he was on display? He looked down to double check if his penis was currently betraying him—not much, but maybe enough for notice.

She stared at him expectantly, an eyebrow raised.

"I can't even begin to defend myself."


	11. The Longest Night: Ed, Winry

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist is any way, shape, or form.

**Authors Note**: This was written for Fire & Ice 2009.

* * *

**The Longest Night**  
_January 15, 2010_

* * *

The electricity had gone out. A strong wind had made the house creak and groan, and with one last groan—the lights flickered out. The house was dark. The snow outside was stacked high. It was late so it shouldn't have mattered much; except, however, for the young woman who pulled all-nighters in order to get her work done, regardless of the time of year. Not wanting to kill her good eyesight by trying to tinker on automail by candlelight, she went to seek out another that would keep the shadows at bay.

He was supposed to be sleeping. When she opened the door, his eyes slowly opened in the dark. Even though the Promised Day had come and passed, any unusual noise in the house was cause for alert. He was like a dog. No matter how much that comparison pissed him off… jumping at every noise, it was true. He couldn't lie about it.

By her light footsteps, he knew immediately who it was. Every member of the Rockbell household had a certain melody to their steps. Granted, Al was a lot lighter on his feet now, but Winry's steps were always more confident than his brother's.

"You awake?" she whispered as she closed the door behind her with a soft click. If he wasn't awake, she was sure to wake him up. Her track record for interrupting his sleep was great.

He grunted in response, following the small orb of light the candle in her hand created, transfixed at the glow. "Think I'm afraid of the dark or somethin'?"

"No," she said. She put the candle, in its ornate holder, on the dresser nearby. "I was working and then the lights went out, so…"

"You got bored and wanted to see what I was up to?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

She smiled. "I just figured that, if I was going to be lonely in the dark, I'd rather be lonely in the dark with you. Is that a problem?"

"I'll buy that," he said, shifting over in the bed to make room for her to sit. "C'mere."

She pointed at the space he patted with his automail hand. "You want me to get in?"

"Uh, sure," he said.

Kicking off her slippers, she moved to lie down next to him. Finding that where he had been lying was deliciously warm, she snuggled with the blanket that was brought over her.

"My toes are freezing," she complained.

"Don't talk to me about freezing," he frowned at her, thinking of his automail limbs.

"Yes, yes. Don't think I've forgotten." She closed her eyes, feeling not only the warmth from the blanket but from him so close by. "You're warm, though."

"I'm not," he argued.

"You're not?" She opened her eyes, raising a hand to press against his cheek. He reeled back at how cold her hand was.

"Compared to you, okay. Why aren't you wearing more? You'll catch a cold."

"You're complaining about me wearing clothes?"

"For right now, anyway," he said. He smiled at her, a gesture lost as her eyes had slid shut again. The serene smile on her face was enough for him.

He was mesmerized at the glow of the candlelight against her skin. The yellow hue licked at her cheeks and kissed her lips. He brought his hand up to trace the light, not noticing the shift in color or heat as Winry flushed in regards to the rare, yet tender, act. His knuckles caressed her cheek before he extended his fingertips to trace her relaxed lips. Following the trail of his finger, he kissed her softly, finding her lips to be the warmest part of her body.

She melted instantly. The light brush of Ed's lips against hers urged her to push back with more fervor. She snaked an arm around him to pull him closer and deepened the kiss. Hands wandered, kneaded, and caressed with every rising moment but stayed in safe areas. They were still new to this.

Kisses dwindled in number and intensity as the weight of the night's hour pressed against their minds. The fire didn't grow, didn't get out of control; it was easily maintained and stoked, yet intimate. His lips graced her forehead when they departed from her lips, brushing her bangs up and out of the way. Once her head dropped to rest on his collarbone, he kissed the crown of her head. They rested, eyes closed, just enjoying the warmth the other provided.

"What time is it?"

"Late," she replied, not bothering to check.

"Informative."

"Shut up and cuddle."

"Cuddle?" he asked, the concept somehow confusing him.

"Hold me," she said, thinking that the different word would help.

"Hold… you?"

"Put your arms around me," she said with a hint of frustration, reaching for him, "how I have my arm around you."

"But my—"

"I don't care," she said forcefully. "It'll change with my body temperature. Besides, you're wearing long sleeves. Stop being a baby."

"I am not a baby!"

"Shh," she whispered. "Don't be obnoxious or you'll wake Granny. Remember the last time we woke Granny?"

"Yes."

"Do we want to relive that?"

"Not in the least."

"Good." When he didn't respond, she whined, "I'm cold. Put your arms, or at least an arm, around me."

"How can you still be cold?"

After much cajoling, many puppy dog stares, and well-timed battings of eyelashes, he relented, shifting in order to bring her closer to him. She nestled against his chest, smiling contently when the weight of his arms comforted her. She could hear his heart beat quickly against her ear and was sure her own heartbeat matched it beat for beat. Not wanting to interrupt the serenity of the moment, she didn't comment on it. His hugs were far and few in between, and whenever they had a moment like this, it was interrupted. Without an interruption in sight, she found contentment.

She found contentment in not thinking about the future, not thinking about where he could go from here, where he would go the second Al was healthy enough to roam again. She felt relaxed in his arms, something she wouldn't have thought possible—wishfully thought, sure, but never truly thought possible.

"What day is it today?"

She leaned back, looking at him with quizzical eyes. It took her a few seconds to figure it out, and then she replied, "The twenty-first."

He chuckled. "The longest night of the year. The darkest day."

"I don't know about that."

"How do you figure?" he asked, pulling her back to him.

She smiled when she found herself nestled against him yet again. "The longest night goes by easier when you have someone to share it with. As long as you're with someone you love, each moment flies by."

"Corny."

"Shut up and cuddle, dammit."


	12. Flash: Ed, Winry

**Disclaimer: **Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing.

**Author's Note**: Short and sweet.

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Ed/Winry

_February 5, 2010_

_

* * *

  
_

He did not have a sandwich this time, nor was he on the lookout for any shady characters walking up to the Rockbell household.

He had no excuse.

Winry had entered her bedroom and, as anyone would normally do when they entered the privacy of their own room, stripped. Well, when they thought they were alone.

She really needed to stop doing that without looking around her room first. What if someone other than him was in there? That would be a problem. For Ed, of course, but it was still a problem for him regardless.

He had stayed quiet. The amount of skin he saw rendered him speechless, anyway. He couldn't speak if he wanted to, unless counting strangled squeaks at why he had a tent in the works of being pitched.

In the aftermath of the incident, he wanted to be anywhere but there, on the receiving end of hits, scratches, and weak punches. With a wrench to the skull to top it off, who would really want to stick around? She took off in a huff, wrapping a towel poorly around her so that he caught a glimpse of backside as she stomped off to the bathroom.

Besides the masochist in him, as he reflected on what had just happened—for a second time, so the wrench hurt a lot more than it did before—he realized that his life had taken an odd but pleasing turn.


	13. Subtlety: Al, Ed, Winry

**Disclaimer: **Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing. BUT HOW ABOUT THE MOST RECENT CHAPTER?

**Author's Note**: This is for my ABCs challenge (part deux) and the prompt was "subtlety is next to impossible" which is what I hope was conveyed in this short story. I hope you enjoy and please review to let me know what you think!

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Al, Ed/Winry

_March 15, 2010_

_

* * *

  
_

It seemed as if his brother and their childhood friend were having a battle of the eyebrows.

He had been absorbed in the novel he was reading, deciding to take an alternative route from the medical textbook he had brought back to the Rockbell household and turning to fiction. He had found the novel in Winry's room and took it based on his amusement of the cover. While Al was surprised that she hadn't said anything to him about it—the novel was rather raunchy for his tastes but he figured that it was a learning experience—he happily continued reading.

Every so often, however, a flash of blond would catch his attention: a swish of a ponytail here, a silent 'humph' and turn of a head there. It was distracting, but he let it slide—_the hero had finally brought his woman to bed_, and Al was glad for that finally happening. He turned the corner of the page, glancing up in the time it took to move from one page to another.

Now they were staring at each other. This was new, the 'silent arguing' thing. Al was confused by how it was effective, knowing how loud they usually got when arguing when there was an audience, but he shook it off in order to return to his novel. It was far more interesting, and the heroine reminded him of someone… Mei, maybe? Al smirked with a new motivation to find the next adult scene.

After a few more minutes of reading, Al looked up to see what Ed and Winry were doing. Before, they had been sitting on opposite ends of the couch. Now they were nearly one being in the middle; there wasn't even a thread's width between them. Curious, Al raised an eyebrow, keeping a finger in the book to keep his place as he watched openly. Sure, he was on the other side of the room in the corner, but that didn't mean he was on another planet.

Ever since the Promised Day had come and gone, full of peace and restoration, Al knew that the relationship between his brother and Winry was different—in a good way. He had his own distractions, but that didn't mean he was clueless to the fact that Ed would sneak out of their bedroom after he believed everyone was asleep. Al had never seen them acting this way in person, never even a single kiss, but he knew it was going on behind closed doors. Without fail, he would hear Ed sneak back in at dawn, hitting the bed with a satisfied exhale, not even bothering to cover himself with his blankets before the melody of snores reached his ears. Al knew what that meant.

Having to imagine what was happening and seeing it in progress were two different things. Pouts and smirks, eyebrow raises and winks, everything and anything that they could do to each other, without moving limbs or speaking, was happening in front of his eyes. It was maddening. Were they children?

"Look, I'm not your babysitter and Granny's not around," Al said, breaking the silence. "Go have sex or something, you're breaking my concentration." He sighed, choosing to turn to his book nonchalantly instead of smirking triumphantly at the looks he was sure to have received.

After some shuffled movement, something that sounded like tripping, and a soft giggle, Al looked up to see that they were no longer in the room. He chuckled softly, sliding down in the chair to be more comfortable as he continued reading the trashy romance novel. "At least one of us is getting some."


	14. King of the Rock: Ed, Winry

**Disclaimer: **Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing.

**Author's Note**: This is for the Springkink challenge on LiveJournal! Enjoy! It's a bit… racier this chapter.

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Ed/Winry

_March 21, 2010_

_

* * *

_

"Turn around so you can finish the tour."

Nearly jumping out of his skin, Ed craned his neck to see who was speaking without completely turning around. Well, he already knew who was talking but he needed to see for himself to actually believe that this was happening to him.

He had been bathing… at least, until he had dared himself to stand on top of the large rock in the middle of the lake, just as he had done years before when he was half his current size.

As children, they—he, Al, and Winry—had taken trips to this lake, joyfully racing each other to reach this rock, standing proudly on top once they reached it. Whoever won would whoop and yell out their victory, openly mocking the losers and their lesser skill.

When they had gotten older, more conscious of their developing bodies, Winry had stopped racing against her will. Granny wouldn't allow it. She would only be allowed in the water if she had a bathing suit on, but where was the fun in that? She protested not-so-silently and refused to race.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, having to shout a little so his words would make it to Winry. Doing so masked the tremor that was fighting its way into his voice, as well.

He was vulnerable. He didn't want to jump down into the water, admit defeat. He wanted to yell and even slam his fists against his chest and be a man, but he couldn't with Winry watching. He felt timid in her presence without an answer as to why.

His automail gleamed in the moonlight and Winry wouldn't help but admire the view. Running around Amestris was working wonders on that ass of his. She almost didn't hear him ask her a question due to her mind wandering, wondering if she could bounce a sen or two off of those cheeks.

"Earth to Winry," he growled out after she had not responded immediately.

"What?"

"Why are you here?" he asked.

"I was wondering where you went, so I decided to go for a walk and check since it's so beautiful out tonight." With a wicked smirk, she requested, "Hey, Ed. Turn around, I can't hear you too well if you're facing the other direction."

She couldn't make out what he was saying to her, his grumbles being swept away by the wind; but he turned slowly to face her, inching to the side bit by bit. He pivoted around, his large hands cupping the parts of himself he wished to keep hidden.

She scowled at him. "What are you, a prude?"

"I just don't feel like flashing you, is that a problem?"

"There are two full moons out already, I don't think I'd have a problem seeing everything else," she mumbled to herself, snickering at her humor.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing," she said quickly and smiled. She kicked off her sandals, leaving them to rest in the grass. "How's the water?"

"Nice," he said as if he didn't believe it himself, awkwardly shifting. Now he felt like he was on display. At least it was only Winry.

…right?

"Mind if I join you? It's been a while since I took a swim here."

He shrugged, tilting his head to the side to look up at the sky. He almost forgot that he needed to cup himself in order to retain some sense of decency. It was so customary for him to cross his arms over his chest. "Whatever, I'll probably be getting out—Winry!"

Winry had stepped out of her jean shorts when he had looked away and now she was tugging her shirt over her head. His eyes were wide and couldn't bear to tear them away. She couldn't pretend that she wasn't embarrassed or not undressing in front of her longtime love, but with a bright blush she unhooked her bra and tossed it to the side. Her panties followed.

Edward lost the ability to speak, or even pick his jaw off the rock—where it had dropped, up until she had reached the rock he was perched upon. She slapped a wet palm to the hard surface, smiling up at him. The amount of her breasts he could still see, even when she was in the water, was too much. Covering himself was getting harder—no pun intended.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," she said, her smile turning coy. She smirked in a way reminiscent to Mustang and he frowned.

"I… I already saw. Yours," he struggled to say. "Mine's, uh, nothing special."

"Tit for tat. I'll be the judge."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't call it 'tat,' Winry."

"What should I call it?"

He sighed, letting his arms cross over his chest, the way he had wanted to before. He tried to look everywhere but where Winry was. She licked her lips.

The rock wasn't small by any means, but to hold two people without being cramped was forcing its power. She didn't care, however, as she hoisted herself up onto it. Lying back, she hummed a tune softly to herself as she watched the milky peach color of his skin and the stars in the sky at the same time, each fighting for her focus.

It took him ten seconds of willpower to not look down at her lying next to his feet.

"Who wins?" she asked, breaking the silence that had settled between them. He had wisely chosen to sit down next to her. That way it wouldn't be so obvious that he was gawking from up above where she could easy see.

He smirked, watching the rise and fall of her breasts with every breath. "I won."


	15. See Through: Ed, Winry

**Disclaimer: **Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing.

**Author's Note**: This is for the Springkink challenge on LiveJournal! Enjoy! Again, the lovely and racy sex lives of Edward Elric and Winry Rockbell. I wish I could write "Fullmetal Alchemist: After Dark" or something so I could get away with seeing these scenes illustrated or even with voice. What do you think?

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Ed/Winry

_March 28, 2010_

* * *

Edward huffed loudly. When he was ignored, he huffed even louder. When she looked up with a bored expression on her face, as if she had been putting up with his attitude for entirely too long and it was wearing her patience thin—specifically that face—he cleared his throat.

"Are you going to actually try on something or are you just going to touch every damn thing in the store?" he asked, frowning at her languid movements. Was she moving this slowly just to purposely piss him off?

"I would," she said, browsing through the clothes on the rack, looking or not really looking at all, she couldn't figure out which. "If I were wearing underwear. It's classless and kind of gross to—"

Ed blinked. "Excuse me?"

"What?" Winry asked, smirking at the look of astonishment on his face. His eyes wandered down her body, sticking to the white, flowy skirt she had on. "You'd see any pair of underwear I own through this skirt and my outfit is cute, dammit."

He had officially zoned out. She snapped her fingers to catch his attention, giving him a stern glare when his eyes finally met hers.

She gave him a pointed look. "Are you trying to see through my skirt?"

As if Ed didn't hear her, he queried, "Say, for instance, you pretended you were going to try something on in this shop. Is it possible?"

"You're sleuthing," she accused. He continued to hold the same expression, waiting on what he believed to be the correct answer to his question. She rolled her eyes. "Oh, I'm sure. This is a pretty sizeable store."

He nodded slowly, eyes darting around as he planned his method of attack. "And, say, if I were to follow you in, would anyone be able to do anything?"

"Edward—"

With a tilt of his head and an indignant look, he whined, "I could pull rank."

"You could do no such thing. We would be arrested for public indecency." As much as she tried to show a sense of propriety around him, she couldn't help but be amused at how their sex life was anything but boring. The amount of effort that went into it was astonishing.

"When had that stopped us before?"

She tapped her index finger against her chin. "That's a good argument."

"Take anything you think will fit you. I'll pretend to go use the bathroom. I'll find you in five," he said, taking off before she had any time or breath to argue. Well, it wasn't as if the store was quiet or empty… there was a record playing rather loudly, and there were various women wandering the racks. She had heard a lot about this particular store through the grapevine, from Riza, and needed to see what it was all about. Winry wondered how Edward knew there was a bathroom around here, but brushed off the idea; he knew too much about everything for his own good.

Speaking of the Fullmetal Alchemist, she could feel Ed's excitement, wherever he was, reaching out for her, goading her into following him into the depths of the large store.

Winry wondered absentmindedly, as she delightfully picked up a chemise that looked rather see-through, if Miss Hawkeye had any problems like these. After surmising that she probably did, if their men were anything alike—which they were—Riza would have this problem as much as she did.

With a wicked smirk, she slinked past a curtain of a deep mauve to the dressing area. A hand shot out of one of the small fitting rooms, and without so much as a peep, she had been snared.


	16. Catalyst: Al, Mei

**Disclaimer: **Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing. But how about this most recent chapter of the manga? Oh, man… it's going to be so sad next month.

**Author's Note**: The rating has been raised due to the most recent chapter. Who would've thought this pairing could push the envelope and my rating? Let me know what you think!

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Al/Mei

_May 16, 2010_

_

* * *

_

"Everything's fine now," he said, smiling softly as he brushed a hand tenderly against her cheek. "Everything's fine." Her arms were tight around his waist, and he didn't have the heart—or want to—pull her away from him.

"But, Alphonse-sama—"

"Please, Mei! It's me!" he said, grasping her chin in his hand softly. "I'm no different… don't speak so formally to me. We are equals. Loves."

"Equals?" she asked, nearly becoming cross-eyed as she tried to keep her eyes on his mouth as it came closer. Those determined eyes… "Alphonse-sama—?"

He pushed his lips against hers, a little late—the honorific still escaped those lips of hers—but the thought of chastising her fled his mind once he felt how soft her lips felt against his. Al reached out, hooking his arms around her thighs, under her backside, to lift her up; she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, but pulled away from the kiss with a confused expression on her face at his sudden action. The sun pouring in from the open window lit up his face, catching the light in his golden eyes. She wouldn't be able to look away, even if she wanted to.

"I… what's happening?" Mei asked, her cheeks prettily tinged pink.

Ever since he had retrieved his senses, along with his body, he was obsessed with touching, feeling, smelling, and tasting everything he wanted. As of now, his sights were set of something a bit more… human. He couldn't hold back any more.

"Do you want it to happen?" he asked, anxious in regards of how this conversation could turn. He could over-step boundaries, get slapped, and never have another opportunity to get close to this precious woman.

"You're so strong," Mei gushed, snuggling against him. She cuddled him, her face buried into the crook of his neck. "You're my prince." He smiled, his eyes darting to try and see her face but failing. Just as he was about to pull her back, her lips lightly brushed against his pulse point, followed by her tongue. His eyelids fluttered closed.

"Does this mean…?"

Mei leaned back in Al's embrace and smiled. Al wasted no time in capturing her lips again.

She was visiting him, as well as his brother and Winry—but mostly him, in the Rockbell household. It was—sort of—a vacation. Since Xing was under new rule now, and rightly so, her chase for immortality was on hold for more important things. Of course, her priorities shifted once she caught sight of those golden eyes that had been hidden, trapped, in that armor Alphonse had been attached to.

After the Promised Day, everything changed. She was more daring. Hell, everyone was more daring. They cherished life even more than before, if that were possible, if the baby boom meant anything.

Taking that leap, yet again, to the danger zone, Al deepened the kiss. They had kissed before. This wasn't exactly new. This feeling, this urgency, though… that was new to them. She would never be able to deny the fact that she had been swept away by his looks, his charm, his intelligence, and his love of all that was cute and tiny—especially Xiao Mei, who had now taken to playing with Den.

The first time she had seen him after he had gotten his body back, weak and fragile, the smile on his face had stolen her heart. He looked so tired, so worn out… but he was still Alphonse, still the person who had protected her, and she—in turn—protected and listened to him in his time of need.

Once he had gotten his strength up, dealt with an over-doting brother who would never leave him alone until Winry came in and dragged him out by his braid, kicking and screaming, Al acknowledged his need of closeness with the Xingese woman. She appreciated the attention, definitely, but was confused: out of everyone in the world he could have, why did he choose her? How was she any different from those who adored him? Despite this doubt, she wanted her prince. She wanted her happy ending. It would be with him.

"A-Alphonse-sama," she whispered shakily when he moved to lavish attention on her neck. Her breaths came out in little gasps and she couldn't deny the burning in the pit of her stomach. What were these feelings? They were so powerful.

"Mei," he growled against her neck, nipping her lightly. At her squeak, he chuckled against her skin. "Stop with the honorifics."

"But—"

He pulled away from her neck to look her in the eyes. "Mei."

"It would be improper!" she tried to half-heartedly argue. It sounded more like she was whining.

"Do you want to know what improper is?" he argued back.

He walked them over to the guest bed he had been occupying during their stay in his childhood friend's home and forcefully unlocked Mei's legs from around his waist in order for her to fall unceremoniously onto the bed. Her look of surprise as she bounced twice, legs spread, was enough to rile Al up to the point of wanting to pull his hair out.

"The dreams I've been having about you," he continued, determinedly staring down at her. "They drive me crazy, do you know that? Do you know how that feels? I want you so badly, and… and…"

"Alphonse-sama, why didn't you just say so? I've been ready for you for months," she responded, mustering as much of a sultry look as she could. "It's only you I want."

He laughed. He didn't know if he was laughing at himself or at the situation, but he laughed. She watched on, confused, but still smiled.

"Now that you've been borrowing Winry's dresses, I don't know what to do with myself. Seeing that skin… I just want to…"

"Touch it, then. Whatever Alphonse-sama wants is his."

"I am a bit hungry," he mused, eying her up as if she were his dinner, his apple pie. She was, again, thoroughly confused.

"Hungry? I could make you a—"

"No," he responded, kneeling down at the edge of the bed. Taking hold of each of her legs, he tugged her closer. With every tug, Mei's dress hiked up more and more, exposing her milky skin to his eyes. She leaned forward, catching onto what he was thinking—or so she thought—and met him halfway in a strong kiss.

She was caught up in his touches, his taste, that she didn't notice as he pushed the straps of her dress down until the cool breeze hit her newly exposed skin. She broke the kiss with a gasp, pulling away and covering herself in embarrassment. "Alphonse-sama!"

"You're beautiful. Why are you hiding?" he smiled, his cheeks pink at his own brazenness. He was trying to be masculine, taking the reigns; he hoped it was working.

"B-Because, it's you…"

"Would you want anyone else to do this to you?"

She shook her head immediately. "No. Definitely not."

"Then? You said…"

She took a deep breath. "I did. I just… haven't shown anyone…"

He smiled, kissing her lightly on the lips, coaxing a smile out of her in response. He played with a long, black braid that brushed over her shoulder. "Show me."

She pulled her hands away, blushing fiercely as his eyes dropped to look at her newly exposed skin. Her breasts were small, especially by Amestrian standards, and she was self-conscious of them. Al's need to touch overpowered him as he reached out a hand to cup a breast tenderly.

"I'm sorry," she said suddenly, eyes slipping shut with a breathy sigh as a thumb ran over a nipple.

"For what?" he asked as he leaned forward more to tentatively taste the other breast.

"For—oh!" she gasped, eyes snapping open to watch him take a nipple into his mouth to suckle.

"For?" he hummed as he kissed his way through the valley of her breasts to reach the other, switching hand and mouth.

"They're small," she responded, her pout evident in her tone. As an afterthought, she added, "You do this too well."

"They're perfect," he shot back, pulling away to kiss that adorable pout. "Perfect to fit in my hands. See?" he asked, cupping both breasts in each hand, smiling at her triumphantly. "Perfect."

She blushed again, leaning back onto the bed, out of his reach. Al grinned wolfishly, finding her embarrassment to be a segue into what he really wanted to taste. He ran his hands up her legs, up her thighs, until they disappeared underneath her dress. His fingers latched into her panties and began to pull. Before doing so, he asked, "May I?"

"Yes," she responded, reminded of the slow burning that was growing in the pit of her stomach. She didn't know what was coming over her, but she was rather fond of the feeling.

"You're sure?" he asked again, this still being new to him. He wanted to experiment, to test hypotheses, as any scientist would. He wanted to take this study to the field, to move past the lengthy books he had read—along with a trashy novel of Winry's or two—and really learn. He wanted to hand a hands-on experience.

She made a noise of affirmation and he pulled her panties—which appeared to him as pristine white with a little lace—down her legs. He watched as they dropped to the floor. With his drive again ignited by the scrap of clothing, he pulled at her legs again to bring her to the edge of the bed. He brought her dress up to rest at her waist and lost himself in the sight before his eyes. After a few mutterings of amazement, testing fingers and whimpers for more, more, please more, he all but dove in to taste his Xingese delight. She tasted sweet, surely from all the fruit that she ate on a regular basis, and he felt as if he could live off of this alone—especially with her whimpering and breathy gasps that sent electric shocks down to the throbbing in between his thighs.

As she shook, eyes squeezed tight, as her hands were both lost in his hair, she tried to get out any words; words of praise, words to stop in order for her to repay the favor tenfold, words… any words would do. She didn't know where he could learn to do those things with his tongue, but she was pleased. Very pleased.

"Alphonse-sama!" she cried out as she felt release come closer and closer. It was so close… and he… stopped? Stopped!

"Please, Alphonse-sama!" Mei's eyes opened as she begged. The scandalized look on her face as she watched Al lick his lips. She… was on his lips. "Oh, Al-sama!"

"Al. Call me _Al_. Just Al."

"But! It's indec—"

"I think we've passed that line," he reasoned.

"But… Alphonse—"

"Finish that honorific and I won't continue," he playfully teased. "Call me _Al_," he stressed. "It's not hard. Believe me, I know what hard is," he joked lamely.

There was a pause. The ache between her legs was too great. He was right. They had passed the line. She was… oh gods, she was in heaven when he touched her. Screw it. She needed this. They needed this. She would repay this.

It took all of her might to not grab his head and force him down. "Al! Please!" He waited still. "Al! Al! Al!" Each time she said his name was more powerful than the last.

The grin on his face looked more like one his brother would don: triumphant with a devilish edge. She liked it. "That's more like it."

"Al!"

She saw stars.

Needless to say, she knew the proper way to address him now.


	17. A Few Kind Words: Winry, Maes, Ed

**Disclaimer: **Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing. Ever. If so, I'd change a couple things about that ending. However! I'm happy with it, regardless.

**Author's Note**: This has no spoilers for the new chapter, but be warned that (most likely) from here on out there are going to be spoilers regarding the finale of the manga. However, that's going to have to wait until I get home from Italy on the 26th. :)

This was written for the fmagiftexchange on LiveJournal.

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Ed/Winry, Maes

_June 13, 2010_

* * *

After the prohibition of late nights, and especially not in her workspace, Winry was unable to do anything productive and that drove her crazy. There was only so much tossing and turning her protruding belly would allow in their bed, as large as it was.

Everything ached. Everything made her frustrated. She didn't feel like herself anymore, moods changing as easily as the winds. While the birth of their child was less than a month away, she couldn't help but feel a bit of anxiousness and dread laced in with the more positive emotions she felt.

Winry didn't know how one person could feel so many emotions at once without going insane.

Ed took to doting on her, mostly giving her rules of activities she could and could not do. She was being treated as if she were one of those fancy dolls from Xing. Winry knew that he was nervous, that his self-confidence was growing lower and lower every day, with worry that the past would repeat itself and he'd be a horrible father. He had been initially excited, making plans and fantasizing about what he would teach the child, but the more he thought about it, the more he worried of the consequences. She tried to coach him out of his funk; however, when she was feeling low she couldn't be bothered to work on his morale, too.

She didn't want to think of the long list of 'cannot do's that plagued her day in and day out, and the list was only getting longer. She was sure, eventually, the only thing on the list would be 'give birth' and that was that.

But, for now, she would be reduced to bed rest and waddling down the stairs to fix herself something to eat. But for now it was bed rest. Ed was snoring lightly next to her, almost half-off the bed in his usual manner. She had given up trying to pull him back on after the time she went toppling after him and onto the floor. Maybe that was the specific time that led them to this predicament, she wondered as she rubbed her belly. She yawned sleepily, hoping that she would actually be able to sleep.

When she next opened her eyes, light was streaming in through the windows. She turned to see if Ed was still there, but he wasn't. Frowning, she hefted herself out of the bed. She found it a little easier to walk, with no aches and pains, and walked with a little more bounce in her step down the stairs—without needing to take the steps slowly, one at a time—to the kitchen. With a smile, she placed her hand on the shoulder of the man sitting at the table, placing a kiss to the side of his head.

"Morning, Mr. Hughes, would you like something to drink?" she asked, walking over to the ice box to gather what she needed. After what had just happened clicked in her mind, she whirled around to stare wide-eyed at the man who was now regarding her with an amused smirk.

"This… this… what?" she tried to string together but failed. "How?"

"You look great, Winry," he smiled, pushing back his chair to stand.

She took a couple steps backwards, shaking her head. She was confused. "This is a dream. This can't be possible."

Hughes shrugged, looking out of place in her home in his military garb. "But you wanted me here, and here I am."

"How could you know that… right. Dream."

"How are you feeling?" he asked, concerned.

"Now that I know this is a dream, a little bewildered... though, usually cranky and achy, but now I'm fine. Emotionally? Scared as hell."

"I know the feeling."

"Maybe that's why my brain is calling you to me." After a few seconds of evaluating the situation further, she sighed. "This breaks my heart."

"I'd apologize, but you brought this on yourself."

"I recognize that, thank you very much."

There was a pause. "I figure I'm here for a reason: want some advice?"

She nodded. "Absolutely."

"Don't be so hard on yourself. There are millions of people, all over the world, who are scared out of their minds, wondering if they're going to mess everything up and ruin their kids' lives. You're smart, tough, and patient. You're going to be a great mother. Edward, on the other hand…" he trailed off in mock-suspense, giving her a knowing smirk. "He's going to be great, too. You know it. He's scared, just like you. Hell, I was scared out of my mind… but I was excited as anything. There's also that to keep in mind."

"How do I know I can trust your words when you're a figment of my imagination?"

"You can cross-check any of this information with Gracia. And tell her I love her the next time you talk to her, alright?"

"Done and done. I can blame it on the hormones if she doesn't believe me."

"Good girl. Anything to get the words heard."

Winry chuckled, but still had a forlorn look on her face. "So, that advice comes from firsthand knowledge, huh?"

Maes nodded.

"But, you know… neither of our mothers or fathers were really around. Only as children did we have them… and barely at that. You were another instance of this, and… God. My grandmother was a great mother figure, even Gracia, and Ed and Al's teacher, Izumi. You guys… you mean the world to us, even if you're no longer really here. My dream self can gush to you since you're not going anywhere now, no, because this is my dream and you won't be going anywhere. Help me." She paused, her mind moving in another direction. "If Ed's not here, do you think I could play around with automail? He's banned me from going into the basement," she pouted.

Hughes laughed at her train of thought, and took a few large steps towards her now that she was more comfortable with his presence. "He's worried about you, you know. Something must've happened to make him worry about you going there."

"I… almost fell down the stairs?" she supplied with a sheepish grin.

He gave her a thumbs down. "There we go. I watched Gracia's every move, almost lining her every step with a pillow in case she was to fall. I was a nightmare. She might've smothered me with one of those pillows if I gave her the chance."

"Ed's a nightmare, too," Winry smiled softly, rubbing her stomach absentmindedly. "But I know he'll be alright. I'm just nervous. Having someone depend only on me to stay alive and grow up based on the specific choices I make… it's a big pill to swallow."

"Do you have everything ready?"

"Everything except my nerves. I thank the gods daily for Ed's military stipend, even if he isn't active in duty. And speaking of that military business, he won't even listen to what Roy has to say to him."

"Has he ever?"

"It could be useful," she said wistfully, tapping her chin with her index finger.

"Want to know something else that's useful? Listen up well," he said, taking her chin in his hand, now that he was close enough.

She felt herself leaning in, like a child herself, smiling up at her father. The thought struck a melancholic chord in her heart. She really had neither of them.

"Listening?"

She nodded.

"Don't worry about Fullmetal. When you have a child… everything just clicks the second you look at the baby's face. Everything makes sense again in a world that's so haywire. I don't know if it was the same for Gracia, the angel was so worn out, as I'm sure you'll be. But… I had been so anxious, almost pulling my hair out, and… the second Elicia was born and in my arms… the world stopped. Even if Ed isn't as open with his emotions as I was, those little fingers, that scrunched up face, will tear what's holding him back away and he will probably sob like a baby, himself—if I know that boy, well, man… at all. It'll hit him like a freight train. I promise you."

Thinking about Ed bawling made her snicker and touched her at the same time. He played most emotional endeavors close to the vest, only letting those in who truly earned their place in his heart. This child, girl or boy, would sneak in before everyone else, and stake claim on the elder Elric. She didn't know how she couldn't have imagined that before.

"Thank you, you know, for that," Winry mumbled, still chuckling, but wiping her eyes that had welled up.

"It's something a daddy knows, Winry. You'll learn the mommy side of things in a crash course, but you'll have Edward to help you. He has his wanderlust, but this will always be his home. You'll always be his home. I know you're grateful for it."

She nodded, wondering if her mind was really playing tricks on her, that she knew all of this information before but needed it played back to her by a sound, trusted source. She wished she had any newer pictures of Elicia to give him so he could show them off in heaven.

"That's a good girl," he said, smiling softly as he kissed her forehead. "You two have made me proud. I'll keep an eye out, just like always."

Winry nodded, the tears that had built up finally falling free down her cheeks. She was happy and sad, torn in two—there went her crazy emotions again. She had wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands, and when she opened her eyes again she was met with darkness. Blinking a few times to adjust her vision, she recognized the dark room as her bedroom. Ed was sleeping still, though more on the bed than before. She touched her face, feeling the wet tracks of tears, and swore that was the most realistic dream she had ever experienced in her life. She wished she could go back to it for reference, or even to call on Hughes when she wanted to talk. Though, she thought selfishly; other people would need him so, so much more.

When she made a move to get up to throw water on her face, she was held back by her husband's strong arm across her middle. He had reached out while they slept and kept a hand on her stomach protectively. It wasn't as if she could go anywhere, really, but she couldn't help but smile softly at the gesture. She sat still, reflecting on her vivid dream in wonder…

Ed would be all right. She knew that.

They would be all right. That was something she also knew now.

They had someone looking out for them, after all.


	18. Together: Roy, Riza

**Disclaimer: **Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing. Ever. If so, I'd change a couple things about that ending. However! I'm happy with it, regardless.

**Author's Note**: This alludes to the ending o the series. Written for my long-standing ABC challenge on LJ.

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Roy/Riza

_September 14, 2010_

_

* * *

_

Her back was to him, bare and illuminated in the dim lighting of the study they were currently occupying. They had been in this situation many years before, only as children.

Roy had requested, too timidly for her to refuse, to once again see her imperfect tattoo that had been the secret to unlock the full potential of his studies. Riza complied reluctantly, wondering if he only wanted to see her vulnerable and half-naked. At the end of the struggle against Father and the Homunculi, she welcomed his personality bouncing back to a previous state that existed a long, long time ago. They would never be those same people again, but any kind of hint at their former selves was refreshing.

"Why now?" she asked. When she was younger, she held her shirt in front of her chest modestly. Now she only used her hands, shirt strewn over the desk placed against the wall.

"It's always good to reflect on where you come from when the storm dies down."

"Really."

"I've always been tied to you in one way or another, Riza. I wonder what pathetic mess I would be without your presence."

"Pathetic mess sounds about right," she joked, drawing a deep chuckle from her superior.

This had to be wrong. Bantering back and forth like this while his fingers, bare against her back, traced the lines of the array tattooed onto her skin. Silence echoed, and all she could hear was her breathing. Maybe he could feel her heart beating so strongly by simply touching her skin. Once he reached the puckered skin of the scar he had been forced to inflict, he stopped.

His voice was hushed. "Does… it hurt any more?"

"Not any more."

"Do you ever think about that day?"

"Do you?"

"Too much. But you're avoiding the question."

"That's because you already know the answer."

Roy caressed the scar, making her shiver. She wasn't ready for that soft of a touch, even if his fingers were already warm from her body heat. "Sorry," he apologized.

"It's fine."

If he were able to see her face, he would've seen her eyes slipping shut as she savored the feeling of his fingers against her skin. Moments like this were too few and fleeting. He stared at the nape of her neck, visible now that her hair had been chopped off on a whim after they had left the hospital following the final battle.

"Riza." There were no formalities, no titles here. This, especially along with her hair length, reminded him too much of the past and the desperation he felt when it came to her.

"Yes?"

"Stay with me."

"I am with you," Riza stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Her voice was level, as usual.

"… forever, though."

"What?"

"Marry me."

She massaged her temple. "That was a statement, not a question."

"Marry… me?"

Her shoulders slumped, and he couldn't tell if she was becoming depressed by this conversation or amused, hiding her laughter. "Are you drunk?"

"Riza," he whined. "Be with me, forever, as my wife."

"No one lives forever," she reasoned. "You know that."

"We will."

She had turned around, not bothering to cover her breasts in modesty like she would've done in her youth. They were different people now, especially Roy. He had never broken eye contact with her, not even once to glance downwards. His determination shone through in those eyes, those eyes that could once again see. Life was too precious to waste. Time was too precious to waste.

She smiled.


	19. Brother: Ed, Al, Trisha

**Disclaimer: **Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing.

**Author's Note**: No spoilers!

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Ed/Winry

_November 1, 2010_

_

* * *

_

"What's a brother?" Al had asked.

Ed smugly grinned. "A brother is a boy who is older than you and is your brother."

"That's an older brother, Edward," his mother said softly.

"That doesn't answer the question, dummy!" Al responded, overriding his mother's statement.

"A brother is a boy and is re… related?" He turned to his mother, "Is that a word, mama?"

"Very good, Edward. It is. You are very smart."

"And the boy came from mama, too!"

"That's right."

Ed nodded, grinning at the compliment.

"But what's a brother _for_?" Al asked, his tone aided by his little balled-up fists, which he shook to stress his impatience.

"Well, Alphonse," his mother started, "a brother is for—"

"For being awesome and stuff! To make sure their little brothers don't get hurt 'n stuff!" he said, crossing his arms over his chest with a little arrogance. He clearly believed he was awesome.

"What stuff?"

Ed rolled his eyes. "Lots of stuff!"

"No stuff!" Al argued back.

"Remember that time you fell, and I gave you a piggyback so you wouldn't get dirt in it or nothin'?"

"Yeah…"

"Stuff!" Ed replied, stomping for emphasis.

"Edward," his mother half-heartedly scolded, a smile on her face. "You have to be more specific."

"Pacific?"

"Specific, dear. You were on the right track, but you have to stop using the word 'stuff' when you explain things."

"Ooh," Ed said, nodding. "What would you say brothers are, mama?"

"Take a look at each other," she said. When they did, she smiled as she continued with, "There. That's what brothers are."

"That's even worser than saying 'stuff', mama! You're not fair!"


	20. The Crying Kind: Ed, Winry

**Disclaimer: **Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing.

**Author's Note**: Alludes to the end of the series.

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Ed/Winry

_October 30, 2010_

_

* * *

_

"I refuse to be that girl!" she yelled, slamming the pan down on the counter.

"What are you talking about?" Ed asked, bewildered at her outburst. All he had wanted was to get something to eat, and now this?

"I've refused it for so long, and now there's no way in hell you're going to… I…" she sighed. "I don't like feeling so helpless when you're gone. I feel as if some of the life in me's been sucked out. I can't help it. I will not, you can count your ass on it, be that girl who cries at everything anymore. I won't. But I can't help but feel empty."

He blinked a few times. "Where did this come from?"

"I… saw the letter."

"Oh." He would let it go that she opened his mail without his consent. He felt as if it had been tampered with, but he wouldn't say a word. "What about it, then?"

"Aren't you going to go? It's a huge opportunity for you."

"So?"

"So?" she echoed, her voice rising.

His cheeks reddened before he cleared his throat to speak. "My priorities have changed a bit, if you haven't noticed. We have a little brat, now, if you didn't notice."

"Yes, I didn't notice that pregnancy whatsoever, you idiot. And don't call him a brat," she sighed, slumping against the counter. "Ed."

"Yeah?"

"There has to be something else."

"No, there doesn't have to be anything. Winry," he sighed, closing in on her at the counter. He wrapped his arms around her waist. "First of all, you're not that crying kind of girl. Our lives have been one extreme circumstance after the other. The only reason I was, and am, so adamant about you not crying is because… honestly… I hate it. Second of all, and you can bet _your_ sweet ass," he said as he coasted his hands down to tug on her dress, "the only time you'll be crying is—"

"Mama! Mama!"

"—when we'll have time to finish that thought," he grinned, kissing her on the forehead. He stepped out of the way to allow her to go retrieve their son.


	21. Electricity: Havoc, Rebecca

**Disclaimer: **Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing.

**Author's Note**: Dirty minds rejoice!

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Havoc/Rebecca

_November 3, 2010_

_

* * *

_

The storm outside was obnoxious, by her standards, but gave her a good opportunity to worm her way into her… well, she wasn't sure what to call him. They were friends, though a little more—if his wandering hands had anything to say about it; not colleague, but the colleague of her best friend, as well as the subordinate of her best friend's fiancé. There were so many technicalities, and yet there were so many instances in which they were iron clad.

Rebecca's power had gone out, and being the wonderful person she was, trekked out into the storm in order to go harass a certain someone in order to keep her company.

She wasn't going to admit that she was afraid of storms in hopes he would hold her until it passed, whispering sweet nothings in her ear. No, because that's all he would do: hold her and chatter incessantly until the moment passed. No, she wanted him to know that she wasn't afraid of storms, necessarily, but that the electricity in the air turned her on. Greatly.

The sense of impending doom that the sky brought forth was enough to get her going. The electrical charge almost ran through her veins with how thick it hung in the air. Rebecca thrived off of the feeling. She knew what was coming, and with that in mind she raced to the Havoc household. She needed to transfer this electricity before she blew a fuse. Well, unless the fuse she was blowing was…


	22. The Great Pumpkin Idea: Ed, Winry, Al

**Disclaimer: **Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing.

**Author's Note**: Written for the **fma_fic_contest** on livejournal.

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Ed, Winry, Al, with mentions of their mothers

_November 2010_

_

* * *

_

No one knew how the young boy achieved such a feat, but Edward Elric… had a hollow pumpkin stuck on his head.

The children had been carving them, each minding his or her own business. Well, Al and Winry had been minding their own business, while Ed was throwing gloopy seeds at them, not even making it to the carving process. Trisha had come out at Winry's screams of, "Stop it, Ed! You're getting it in my hair! Ew, knock it off!" to interrupt her son's terrorizing of the poor girl.

The pumpkins' innards had been collected and disposed of to prevent any further havoc.

Edward had been pouting long enough for a, "If you keep doing that, your face is going to get stuck that way!" to be shot at him.

He was mad, so very mad, that he wanted to hide. Thus, the great pumpkin on his head idea had been born. It seemed like a good idea to him at the time.

The loud giggles and screams of the children outside called Trisha and Sara out to the yard to see what in the heck was going on.

Ed was running in circles, hands flailing, screaming at the top of his lungs while Winry and Al rolled around on the ground, peeling with laughter. Neither child bothered to help, only growing louder when Ed ran directly into a ree. Needless to say, he never tried that again—or ate anything including pumpkins.


	23. Fireworks: Ed, Winry

**Disclaimer: **Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing.

**Author's Note**: Written for a few different prompts, all rolled into one. I hope you enjoy this! Review and let me know what you think!

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Ed/Winry

_December 24, 2010_

_

* * *

_

The bursts of color, flashing with reds, golds, silvers, and greens, were enough to mesmerize even the most skeptical cynic. The fireworks, consisting of all different shapes and sizes, captivated the residents of the small, country town of Resembool who were scattered amongst the grassy hillside.

It was the beginning of summer. A festival celebrating the solstice, the beginning of the warm, dry season, was taking place.

Edward had propositioned, after much fumbling for those consonant-vowel combinations called words, Winry to accompany him to this festival. She had been making noise for the past couple of weeks about how wonderful it would be to actually have a reason to celebrate something wonderful, rather than living day-to-day on a larger-than-life hope for a better tomorrow without a real guarantee.

The sentiment had struck home, a little too hard, with Edward; Al had bowed out some time before, opting to spend more time studying with the small Xingese girl, leaving Ed alone with Winry—and Granny Pinako, but she minded her own business along as no "funny business" went on under her roof.

Ed was alone with Winry often, but he enjoyed the little moments, even if he chose not to voice his appreciation for his childhood friend turned… turned… question mark. Ever since he had returned, since they both had returned, with a little more meat on their bones—and, you know, with more bones—Ed and Winry had fallen into a weird state of being, although not entirely an unpleasant one. They touched more, talked more. They fell into a calm silence that hadn't existed with the tension of war and guilt so thick in their guts, choosing to hold hands over throwing wrenches. She still tinkered with automail, fulfilling orders that continued to be placed even if she wasn't in Rush Valley. He was proud of her; again, he wouldn't say that out loud for the sake of his pride—and embarrassment.

When he had finally kissed her, it was ninety-nine percent Winry-prompted. She had dared him, with all of the nerve he couldn't muster up on his own, and he rose to the challenge. Her faced was flushed in the wake of her yelling, her eyes deep with emotion; her lips pursed in a pout that he couldn't deny the pull of and fully indulged himself in what she was offering. He was clumsy at first, but ever the fast learner. Ever since then, instead of simply holding hands, they shared a bed, warmth in the cool nights of spring.

Innocent…

… was not the way one would describe the current tension lingering between the pair, months after their hesitant, cautious beginning. They tiptoed around the subject of "more" but found themselves at frayed edges of adulthood. Frustration.

He had already announced to the Rockbell household that he was going to be traveling soon. The bug had bit him hard, and he had grown antsy without his brother there to keep him in check. Winry did a fine job of keeping him in check, but for things other than his wanderlust.

Despite his mumbles and the resulting anxiousness in asking her to come with him to this festival—though he knew she wouldn't turn him down—he was still nervous. A bigger question, one that plagued him even more so than the lingering stares at her luscious curves, loomed over his head. One that involved his heart. His future.

And here they were, staring up at the fireworks of the solstice festival. He was wonderfully entranced by the colors, as was she. His hand was securely around her shoulders, and her hands were clasped around his waist in a loose hold. They were a little ways away from the rest of the crowd, choosing to be less social than Al would've allowed. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

"It looks like the sky is falling, doesn't it?" Winry said, turning to focus on Ed.

He didn't look down at her, but nodded with a smile. "Yeah," he replied. "It really is something." No matter he wanted to look down at her, the blouse she was wearing was much too revealing, too distracting from his angle. Cursing and reveling in the fact that he was now tall enough to see right down her shirt, he was faced with a problem he refused to muddle through. The other problem, one that he coached himself into bringing to the surface that evening, was about to explode through his chest like the fireworks they were watching.

He wanted to propose. This was it.

"Hey, Win?"

"Yeah?"

He cleared his throat. "You know… how I'm leaving, right?"

"Of course I do," she responded, leaning her head against his shoulder with a sad tone.

Ease into it… "Will you be waiting for me, for when I come back?" he asked.

"What kind of question is that?" she asked, pulling back to glare half-heartedly at him. He was already leaving in the morning, and now he was going to question her fidelity to him? "Do you really need to ask?"

"No, no," he sighed, pulling her closer so that they were in a full embrace, instead of standing side-by-side. "I just… want to hear it. You know, to calm my nerves."

"You're the one I'm more worried about, Edward."

"What do you mean?"

"You're wandering to God knows where, and there will be thousands of women, more beautiful than me, trying to tempt you." With those last words, she averted her eyes.

"No one's… no one's more… beautiful than you, Win. Not to me."

She smiled a watery smile, raising herself to be on tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his lips. It was just what she wanted to hear.

"I believe you." They smiled at each other for a bit before she retorted with a bigger grin, "You're too thick-headed to even notice a woman hitting on you, anyway."

"Hey!" he responded, frowning at her. Oh, that man-pout. "Do you want me to be a womanizer or some pig?"

"No," she smirked, kissing her underside of his jaw. "Never."

"Alright, then."

They stood, Winry's head against his chest, his chin perched on top of her head, as the fireworks sparkled in the distance. He didn't want to be anywhere else in the world at that very moment.

It was only the next day, when she started going off about appointments while they were parting at the train station, did he remember his goal of the previous night. Now, if only he could get those words out successfully.


	24. Ready: Ed, Winry, offspring

**Disclaimer: **Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing.

**Author's Note**: Alludes to the end of the series. I forgot to post this after the round of the contest was over. The limit was 250 words, so pardon the length of this!

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Ed/Winry, offspring

_Written November 29, 2010_

_

* * *

_

The little girl bobbed back and forth in her high chair, twisting her head away from her mother's hands.

"If you would just stay still," Winry grumbled, one beaded hair tie in her mouth, the other stretched around two fingers.

This photograph, their family's first, brought great meaning. Originally, only her immediate family—she, Ed, and the children—were going to be in the photo, resembling the one from his childhood. Four.

When Al got uncharacteristically fussy when it was mentioned in passing, Ed—the great softy he was turning into—suggested that he and his new wife travel to Rush Valley to take part. Six.

Then, when her Rush Valley family got wind of this upcoming photograph, in commemoration of their unions, new and old, Garfiel and Paninya just wouldn't take no for an answer. Not that Winry could say that two-letter word without a deep bout of guilt. Eight.

Ed, chasing his son with a comb, seemed to be having just as much luck as Winry in taming his child's hair. With a loud huff of defeat, he stopped in front of his youngest once he realized he had her full attention. Eddie ran circles around them all.

Edward blew a raspberry at his youngest before running the comb through her short fringe.

"Thank you so much," Winry replied, sighing in relief as she finished tying the second pigtail. In the next instant, she scooped up Eddie mid-run and deposited him into his father's arms.


	25. Babysitting: Roy, Maes, Gracia, Elicia

**Disclaimer: **Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing.

**Author's Note**: Written as a gift!

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Roy, Maes/Gracia, baby Elicia, mention of Riza

_January 28, 2011_

_

* * *

_

"There's the number of the restaurant, the doctor, the usual babysitter—"

"Alright, alright," Roy responded, waving his hands in dismissal at his best friend—who had been ticking off, on each finger, every single person in Central, more or less, that could do a better job or save his ass if anything went wrong. Like he didn't already have that sort of thing figured out.

"You remember how to change a diaper?"

"Yes, mother," he replied sardonically.

"You're going to call Hawkeye ten minutes after we leave, aren't you?" Hughes joked. In a hushed tone, he pulled Roy closer in an aside, "Remember, hanky panky happens when Elicia is asleep and asleep only. I don't need my precious baby's eyes melted off because of you and what you like to call technique."

"I agreed to babysit, not get my life evaluated. Now just go!" Roy frowned, pushing Maes away—who was putting up a weak fight. "Don't be a brat."

Hughes snickered to himself as gave up to go collect his wife. She met him halfway, carrying their precious little angel in her arms. Elicia was almost a year old, and this was the first time they were going to leave her alone.

Gracia looked pensive. "You know, Roy, if you're not comfortable doing this we can always reschedule."

Maes scooped Elicia out of Gracia's arms and deposited her into Roy's—not before planting a wet one on her forehead. Elicia was in a daze, fresh from a nap. Disgruntled to be yanked out of her mother's arms, she made a noise of disapproval. After Roy swayed her back and forth in his arms a bit, the baby nestled against him. His arms were secure enough for her to doze off again.

"See? He's a natural!"

"Please, just go."


	26. Military Party: Mustang et al, Ed

**Disclaimer: **Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing.

**Author's Note**: Written as a gift!

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Mustang-tachi, Edward, mentions of Winry and Al

_January 28, 2011_

_

* * *

_

"Who let Fullmetal into the booze?" Breda asked, holding up an empty, brown bottle. Edward had taken off, claiming that he needed to make an important phone call.

"Who let Fullmetal go for the phone?" Havoc chimed in response, not before taking a long drag of his cigarette. "He's drunk dialin' his mechanic. Twenty cenz on it. Come on, who's betting with me?"

Fuery frowned. "That's not nice, you know. They depend a lot on each other. You'd do the same thing to—"

"Stop that sentence before you get yourself shot, Sergeant Major," Roy calmly threatened. With a frown, he pushed a tray of cookies in his subordinate's direction. "Cookie?"

"No, thank you—"

"Keep your mouth full," Roy responded, taking a cookie and pushing it against Fuery's lips.

"Colonel," a terse voice sounded from behind before the tray was snatched from his grasp. "Grow up."

"Tis the season," Falman murmured, taking a cookie.

"Who made the cookies anyway?" Breda asked, eyeing up Black Hayate who sniffed at some fallen crumbs by his master's feet.

"Armstrong, I think—"

"And the recipe for the Armstrong 'Delectable Delights' has been passed down through generations!" a booming voice rang out. "Why, it has been in the family for years and years. Local bakeries have tried to steal the recipe!"

"You don't say."

"Oh, but I do!"

Edward, looking a little forlorn, entered the room. He eyed the cookies. "Is there milk in this?"

The question was ignored. "Where's your brother?"

"On the phone."

"Aw, strike out with your mechanic?"

"She's just in a pissy—hey! How did you know that I was," he burped rather ungentlemanly, then cleared his throat, "on the phone with her?"

"Someone owes me twenty cenz!" Havoc exclaimed.

"No one took you up on that bet, Havoc."


	27. Golden Slumbers: Ed, Winry

**Disclaimer: **Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing.

**Author's Note**: Written as a gift!

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Ed/Winry

_January 28, 2011_

_

* * *

_

Her voice, thick and scratchy with sleep, asking the simple, "You're leaving now?" almost broke his heart each and every time. Winry sounded so young, looked so timid and fragile as she stood there in one of his t-shirts, rubbing the corner or her eye with a knuckle.

Ed needed to steel himself better against her words and the tone of her voice asking them, protect himself from the look in her eyes that was almost successful in keeping him there with her—so blue, away from knowledge he needed to possess in order to aid the lives of those less fortunate. Edward needed to remind himself half the time that he was moving towards a greater cause now.

With each kiss, each lingering touch, each act of lovemaking, it was harder to leave—even after he was gone for so long, traveling all over the country and beyond the borders. He wouldn't admit it to her, that it was harder to leave her warmth; he wouldn't let her know she had that kind of leverage over him, but he felt that he was growing up when he would, at least, admit that fact to himself.

"Go back to bed, Win," he said softly, approaching her. He had his coat on. He was a bastard in this situation, always wanting to leave before sunrise. He would leave behind a note, declaring his love and regret. He hated seeing her cry. The amount of times his heart broke was unhealthy, but mending that obnoxious, pounding muscular organ in his chest back together was actually pretty enjoyable.

When the sun rose, so did her eyes, her smiles. It made leaving almost impossible. In the dark of night he could escape those things, before they shone too brightly, blindingly in the morning sun.


	28. Lace and Ribbons: Ed, Winry

**Disclaimer: **Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing.

**Author's Note**: Written for springkink under the prompt of "She wore black lace undergarments." Thank you to my lovely beta!

Warning: smut!

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Ed/Winry

_February 7, 2011_

_

* * *

_

Winry didn't need a holiday to surprise her husband. She didn't need a reason.

The look on Ed's face was enough when he saw what she was wearing—and the pose she was in. He was like his birthday and every single holiday rolled into one. She beckoned him into their bedroom with a deceivingly innocent tone and a wiggle of her index finger.

She was already on her back, hair hanging off the end of the bed. One leg bent, the other flat against cool sheets in a pose she copied from a dirty magazine she had found once in the shop. Winry's hand, the very one that had beckoned him, now hung off the edge of the bed; its partner rested, ever-so-subtly pushing up her breasts that were covered with a thick, black lace ribbon. She bit her bottom lip while smirking wickedly at him.

Edward disposed of his clothing—in almost record time—from the moment he kicked the door shut to the next instant of tugging on ribbon ties.

Her panties matched, apart from for the fact that they were actually undergarments as opposed to what Ed would affectionately refer to as "the best present he ever unwrapped" that was barely covering only her nipples.

There was so much lace, so much black.

The gentle curves and swells of her torso were calling to his hands as he gripped her waist to pull her up and on top of him. Edward grinned. Her panties were the easiest to tear from her. The added bonus of the friction between them after he untied the sides and pulled the lace from her—that was too good. At least he couldn't ruin this pair in his impatient haste, like pairs of the past.

The black band of lace-ribbon that was tied securely around her chest, resting over her nipples, was the harder of the two items to pull away. Until she suggested his teeth, he was fruitless; teeth meant he could ruin the—whatever exactly it was, he couldn't figure out.

She leant forward, purposefully brushing her breasts against his face before he had a chance to snap at the offending article. Ed murmured something about her being so soft for a mechanic and hoped she didn't take it the wrong way. He dragged his tongue along the underside of her breast, enjoying the long exhale of breath that accompanied his action. She ground down against him, wet and warm.

Not every man could gloat that his wife looked like a pin-up model. Not that Edward was a gloating man, but the swell of his chest and the swell of his cock spoke otherwise.


	29. Distractions: Ed, Winry

**Disclaimer: **Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing.

**Author's Note**: Written for springkink under the prompt of "a pregnant Winry is the most attractive Winry he's ever seen - though now, because of this, he won't allow her to get any work done with his distractions." Thank you to my lovely beta!

Warning: dirty minds!

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Ed/Winry

_February 7, 2011_

_

* * *

_

The miracle of life. He, as a scientist, hardly believed in miracles; that is, he didn't necessarily believe in them until he saw one occur right before his eyes.

Winry, six months pregnant with their first child, was the most gorgeous human being on the face of the planet.

He didn't know how else to rationalize his adoration.

She was wonderful, beautiful, breathtaking—all of these things he wouldn't usually say to her face were now pouring out past his lips without a second thought. It had been the case, before, that he could only vaguely stammer out those words of love, only accompanied by that telltale feeling of satiety after lovemaking.

Winry had learned his way of giving compliments wasn't exactly the easy, normal way.

He wasn't an over-the-top man, one who gushed about every little thing that he held dear to him, like the late Brigadier General. He wasn't a man who took kindness in even the smallest creatures with the devotion of a mother, like his brother. He, neither, was a man who was entirely locked up, without hope of revival, like his late father. He was a mix of all three, the positive and the negative, and that made him a quiet, personal man who was… for lack of a better term, shy. He hadn't been used to opening up until he got intimate with Winry.

Though, that's a story for another time.

Now, however, everything that came out of his mouth was enough to turn his cheeks pink in afterthought; eventually, even he wasn't fazed by his lovesickness for his wife, the child she was carrying.

While he was in a state of bliss, everyone around him was entirely sick of the sappy side (except his wife, who was eating this shit up).

Edward had worried in the past that he wouldn't be a good father, follow the mistakes of the "fuck-up" and ruin his kids' lives for all eternity. He still worried along that road, but Winry knew better.

"Hey, Win," Ed said, nudging himself into her work cellar. "Want food?"

She turned, almost knocking her wrench off the table with her stomach, nudging it a few inches. "What? Food?"

"Yeah, want some? Though, I dunno what to make," he grumbled, smiling a little bashfully at her.

"Something that won't upset my stomach?" Winry offered, giving him a look. Last time he had cooked she had found herself stationed at the toilet for hours. "I don't know if I should trust your cooking."

"Alright, alright," he dismissed, waving her off. "I'll make something _I_ can't even fuck up. How about a sandwich to tide you over for a bit until you decide what to cook?"

"Sounds safe."

He disappeared for a few minutes, but then popped his head back into her work area. "Hey, Win?"

"Yes, honey," she responded, stating rather than questioning.

"Is the cheese good if it's blue?"

She rolled her eyes. "Edward! Of course not!"

"Hmm," he replied distractedly. He wasn't thinking about cheese; she doubted even that the cheese was blue. Her husband was a brat.

He left, and once she got back into the rhythm of the small job she had accepted, he returned.

"Hey, Win?"

When she turned, in a huff, to demand _just_ _what_ _exactly_ he wanted that was so damn important to interrupt her this many times… but stopped before speaking when his face was dangerously close to hers.

"Oh," she squeaked, blinking a few times before leaning away to get a better view of his face. "What is it?"

"We're out of meat," Ed replied, his voice low.

Uh oh, _that_ tone. She almost wanted to respond, _"And I'm sure you know where to find some? Your pants? How original."_

"Oh, are we?" she actually replied.

"I think we need to… do something," he replied, leaning against her in a lazy hug. Both of his hands were placed on the swell of her stomach. "About… it…" he continued, placing warm kisses on her neck, up behind her ear, back to the nape of her neck.

"You're so distracting," Winry sighed.

"You shouldn't work so much."

"You keep getting confused the amount of time I'm actually working and the time you distract me into having sex with you. There's a difference."

"I don't think so."


	30. Gold Star: Ed, Winry

**Disclaimer: **Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing.

**Author's Note**: Written for springkink under the prompt of "rewards as parents/You get a gold star."

Warning: horny adults!

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Ed/Winry

_February 9, 2011_

_

* * *

_

"Ten gold stars get you any sexual act you want. If you save up to twenty, you can pick where it happens. Thirty, and I'll do that thing you keep begging me to do," she smiled, ticking off fingers for each item on her dirty list. Her eyes kept darting through the doorway, into the kitchen, making sure the baby was all right.

Edward was deep in thought. "You don't say." Parenting had its incentives. "Though… you do realize this will raise our chances of having another baby, right?"

"That's a risk I'm willing to take," Winry shrugged, sauntering out of the room and into their modest kitchen.

She loved holding some kind of power—usually sexual—over him. It really spiced things up.

"Wait," Ed called, following her into the kitchen where their nine-month-old swayed in his highchair happily, right where he was left. "So, what constitutes earning a gold star?"

"Chores: laundry, dishes, cooking… cleaning up after junior here, dealing with the chaos which is feeding time. Little things that would make my life easier and the transition back to work not so difficult."

"I see," he responded. Just as she was about to sit down at the table to begin feeding their only child, he tugged her up to continue standing. "By all means, allow me."

"You're really into this, aren't you?"

"What does fifty stars get me?" he asked, ignoring her question.

"Are you planning on being that much of a kiss-ass?"

"Dear, mind your language around this impressionable young gentleman," Edward grinned, ruffling his son's light blond tufts of hair. His hair stuck out, even more unruly than usual.

Winry snorted in laughter. "You definitely are. If you want to actually kiss it, you know, all you have to do is ask. Maybe I'll give you a gold star."

"Wait a second. Sex can get me gold stars, too? Can I pick up legitimate stickers at the store and start a tally because this is too good to pass up."

"If you want," Winry smiled, leaning down to kiss the top of her son's head before righting—as right as she could get it—his hair that her husband mussed. "Being my slave, more or less, will get you the gold stars if you'd like. Star per orgasm?"

"This is the best day ever," Ed cheered. He turned to his son. "Isn't that right?" he asked in an over-the-top gushy tone as he pinched the baby's cheek lightly. The baby squeaked and jerked in his chair; he was beginning to get grumpy that no one was giving him food.

"Well, now's a good place to start," Winry smiled, patting her husband on the head. "I need to get some work done."

"Sure, sure." Edward said, getting up in order to retrieve the necessary items for his son's lunch. "Oh, and Winry?"

"Yes, Ed?"

The arrogance was nearly oozing out of him. "I'll get ten stars by tonight, you watch."

Despite his arrogance, she matched his leer almost exactly. "I'll hold you to it."

This would most definitely result in their second child.


	31. To Stay: Ed, Winry

**Disclaimer: **Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing.

**Author's Note**: Written for springkink under the prompt of "She tastes like apple pie." This is most definitely late, but came to me in a rush when I actually had time to sit down and write it.

Warning: smutty themes!

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Ed/Winry

_February 20, 2011_

_

* * *

_

The second he set his suitcase down, Winry was in his arms. She wailed, despite her better judgment and how open she was to letting him travel. She had missed him more than words could ever hope to express. Her emotions always went haywire when it came to the elder Elric; they both knew they were a little off their usual kilter when it came to the other. Her lover, her life, her patient. His strength, his hope for the future. Intertwined since childhood. Destined.

The house smelled so thickly of apple pie. The smell of home, one he would never associate with any other household or woman.

Family fluttered around Edward's return, but ultimately knew it was the time for reunion between lovers. With gentle claps on the back, smiles and kisses, formalities exchanged—they disappeared where privacy was in abundance. They were old enough to be alone.

They deserved as much—at least.

"You've been gone for so long," Winry whimpered through pants, his hot mouth tracing patterns on her neck.

"I know," he breathed, hitching her skirt upwards. "I know, I know, I know…" he sighed, his hands in a flash, covering any expanse of skin he could see. "I'm losing patience."

"The zipper's on the back, Ed," Winry responded, trying to reach around to undo the contraption herself.

He shook his head, saying she misunderstood. "With the research. As much hope as I have to uncover secrets, hidden calculations within ruins and texts… I feel empty. I know I need to help those who don't have a chance. I want to, don't get me wrong. Now, my thoughts… my thoughts are filled with something very different."

These magical words. She didn't want to smile, she didn't want to appear as if the work he did was any less important than her, but…

"Are you serious?" she asked, wonder in her voice. She whispered, not wanting to scare the words away. The king of wanderlust, the man who could hardly sit still… was going to stay with her? Make good on his proposal? Allow them to begin a new chapter of their lives, full of uncharted territories?

"Yeah," he said, unzipping her out of her dress. It was a beautiful, pristine white. It reminded him of his promise. "I want to be here. I want to start a family. I want to finally get married. Make an honest woman out of you."

Winry couldn't swallow. Her throat was so tight. She didn't know if she wanted to cry, scream, or do both from the rooftop. She decided to latch onto him for dear life. Her lips were on his in a hot flash; their tongues immediately met. He hummed appreciatively into her mouth: she tasted like apple pie. He almost forgot about the treat.

"As if I'm not honest already, you freak," she managed to say, hitting his shoulder—the left one, she wasn't cruel. "You're sounding quite selfish. I love the sound of you saying you want things."

"I want you," he replied, reaching down to the deep curves of her backside and taking a firm hold. He hoisted her up on her knees, effectively pulling her away from him. Her dress was neither on nor off her.

"You already have me," she said simply, trailing her hands down his chest to rest on the fly of his pants. She dragged a finger down the pronounced bulge. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Neither am I."


	32. More: Ed, Winry

**Disclaimer: **Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing.

**Author's Note**: Written for springkink under the prompt of "Well-fucked; (being fucked out; fuck-dazed; sated and sleepy; wrecked; softened and debauched); Do I want to know how you learned to do that?" This is most definitely late, but better late than never!

Unbetaed.

Warning: smutty themes!

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Ed/Winry

_February 24, 2011_

_

* * *

_

The first rays of dawn began to shine through the curtains.

There they lay, husband and wife, arms and legs spread, breathing heavily. Eyes were closed, sheets strewn every which way. They lost a pillow somewhere. Sentences were attempted, then abandoned, multiple times. Finally, just when they had calmed down, breaths caught, they spoke to each other.

Winry sighed happily, curling up against Edward. "Do I want to know where you learned that… that thing? I can't even describe what it was." Her fingers drew lazy patterns on his chest; soon, his hand came to capture hers to hold.

He chuckled, low and gravelly; his voice was hoarse from their previous romp. He had been uncharacteristically loud. "I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."

"You're hilarious, you know that?" she replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes with a smile. As an afterthought, she added, "Talk some more, your voice is turning me on again."

"You're ready for more?" he asked, surprised (though, really, pleased) that she was already willing.

"When you're gone for months I'm already horny enough to rip off your clothes. This time you were gone for a year. You're not leaving this bed for a solid week if I have anything to say about it."

"You'll have the only say," he smiled, kissing the top of her head. "Besides, I normally like your say the best. Can we eat in bed, too? Off of each other, maybe?"

"We _did_ miss your birthday…"

Edward grinned, making a whoop of happiness.

She smiled, turning to prop herself up better, her breasts resting against his chest. He took notice, having to drag his eyes up slowly from them in order to make eye contact.

"Seriously, Ed, it's not like you haven't thoroughly violated my breasts before. Sometimes I feel like you've never seen them, the way you react to them."

"I spent my life imagining what they looked like under your clothes, and now I get them whenever I want them. I mean, it's going to take years to get used to this."

Winry laughed, and they shared a kiss. She then yawned, leaning her head to rest on his shoulder. "Maybe I should sleep for a while."

"Sleeping is good. Round two can begin when we wake up?"

She smiled against his skin. "Sounds like a plan."


	33. Anniversary: Ed, Winry

**Disclaimer: **Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing.

**Author's Note**: Written for springkink under the prompt of "sweet sex, a night on the town - we've got a babysitter, let's have fun." This is most definitely late, but better late than never!

Not necessarily mature, but there are those themes present, as always.

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Ed/Winry

_March 11, 2011_

_

* * *

_

It had taken much begging and pleading on her part, which was surprising due to the fact that it was normally the mother who didn't want to leave the nest by textbook definition.

Edward was rather stubborn leaving his children in the hands of someone other than himself or Winry. Al he wouldn't have minded, but Mustang? Over his dead body, he had argued. Winry pleaded, convincing him with the sweet curves of her lips (and hips—his hands strayed to dangerous areas whenever she brought his attention lower and lower on her body) that Roy was, indeed, already a father and his children were on the right track to being decent human beings. Also, Roy wouldn't be around forever, only for the night. Only one night. They had a room at a sweet little inn in town, and would be back bright and early in the morning.

It was their third wedding anniversary.

The first went unnoticed, miraculously, by the both of them in the haze that made up the first year of their marriage. Between getting the new shop set up, the late nights of both constructing and having sex all over the construction site, they had been quite busy.

Their second anniversary was _almost_ forgotten due to a screaming, crying bundle of joy to which they called their firstborn. So, it was quite obvious they had little to no time to themselves to celebrate.

Now, that Winry was all right with leaving—and egging Edward on to believe the same—they have gone ahead and made plans for their third wedding anniversary. In terms of their actual relationship, by this point… they were together for _probably_ six years.

When asked the exact date, neither could put a finger on it. Edward believed one date to be the true one, where Winry believed another. So, they simply relied on the date that had been officially set by their wedding.

So, after hugs and kisses goodbye—and a not-so-subtle threat to a previous superior officer—they were off. A nice dinner, a peaceful walk, and then hopefully…

"Do you want to just go to the inn now?" he asked, snaking his arm around her waist. He pinched at the floaty fabric that rested on the hip his hand was rested on; he was itching to rip it off of her.

"No, Edward," she rolled her eyes with a sigh. "We're going to go out and we're going to have fun."

Hours later they found themselves worn down but not worn out.

They had a delicious dinner at a romantic, intimate restaurant where their prices didn't force Edward's eyes to bug out of his head ("In Central, this meal would've been ten times as expensive!" he said with a grin as he wolfed his meal down.).

Winry then managed to persuade him to go, "Just take a peek!" at the dance hall, which was in full swing. They stayed for a little over an hour.

The couple had wandered out further than intended, and were enjoying a slow, peaceful walk back. Arm in arm, they watched the scenery, the people, and felt the calm, warm breeze. Contentment.

"Tonight was wonderful," she murmured, leaning against him more. "I know we won't be able to do this often, but we should make a point of getting away more. You had fun, didn't you, Ed?"

His grunt of approval made her heart soar. Ed wasn't the kind of guy that normally took pleasure in things such as dancing and long walks—unless they were in relation to alchemy texts and faraway destinations in order to find out more about said alchemical texts—but for him to have enjoyed himself meant the world to her. Still, she didn't know how dancing would make its way into the mix. Winry knew he would only do this for her.

"You don't know how happy this makes me," Winry said.

"Oh, I think I know."

"You do, do you?"

"And besides," he said, and she could hear the grin in his voice, "the night's not over yet."

Their pace picked up, with more purpose, on their way back to the inn.

As soon as the door had slammed open in haste, banging against the wall, it had been kicked shut, slamming against the frame. Mouths were hot on each other, hands grasping and groping for leverage and for the feel of skin. After a while, their passionate kisses dwindled, turning deeper, slower and more sensual. Each movement was precise as Edward lifted her and placed her gently on to their large, lush bed.

"We have all night."

She nodded slowly, unsure of why he was mentioning this now.

"And each moment," he began, unbuttoning her blouse, "will be devoted," he pushed the piece of clothing from her shoulders, "to you." The garment pooled behind her and Ed brushed it away. Her skirt was quickly done away with, as well; that filmy fabric didn't stand a chance.

"But, Ed—"

"But nothing," he said, holding a finger up to her to keep her in line. The smile on his face was too genuine for her to argue against it, despite the stern tone and determined face he was making. He looked kind of constipated—or in pain, she mused, but realized that saying those words out loud would effectively kill the mood. He continued, "You hardly get a moment to yourself at home with the lil' guy crying for you, or for the both of us, and tonight we celebrate you."

"Really?" she asked. The hope laced in her tone made him chuckle. "But, what about—"

"If you think I'm getting nothing out of this, you're sorely mistaken."

"Alright, alright," she waved off, undoing her bra and tossing it to the side. Blushing and nervousness was long gone between them. Her hands went to the fly of his slacks. Deftly unhooking the button and pressing her hands down past his hips, the action unzipped them as they pulled away from his body. They were an old, well-worn pair. "But, what if, dare say, I get off more when I know you're getting off with me?"

"That's not a good argument and you know it," he replied, pulling his dress shirt over his head after he had undone a few of the buttons. "You're the mother of my child, Win. And, hopefully, after this anniversary, we'll have a few more." He wiggled his eyebrows, laughing at her squeal when he tackled her to the bed.


	34. Interruptions: Ed, Winry

**Disclaimer: **Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing.

**Author's Note**: Written for springkink under the prompt of " interrupted sex: are you spying on us?" This is most definitely late, but better late than never!

This is based off of a doujinshi (ED x WIN 5). If you've read it, you'll fully understand what's going on here. If not, you'll still enjoy the funny.

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Ed/Winry

_March 16, 2011_

_

* * *

_

After they couldn't take any more of what they were witnessing, they went back to the bedroom they were sharing. Ed sat on the bed and put his head in his hands. Winry paced, not sure what to do with herself. She knew Edward was going to explode.

"It's not like we didn't know it was going to happen eventually," Winry reasoned, trying to head him off.

When Ed didn't respond, she continued, "And it's not like it's not a completely normal, healthy thing they're doing."

"I don't think you saw the same thing I did!" Ed yelled, finally making eye contact with her. "My little brother was… was… having s-sex with that… little bean girl! Kinky looking stuff, too! Stuff we haven't even… thought… of doing. I can't even begin to cope. Besides, how is she not snapped in half with how he was treating her? She's about the size of an infant!"

"While that mental image of your brother fucking an infant is doing wonders for my brain right now, how do you think he does alright at night knowing what you do to me?"

Edward backpedaled. "Well, that's different—"

Winry's hands were perched on her hips. "How?"

"Well, it's… I'm his older brother. He should expect that I would have sex with my girlfriend." He paused, then nodded for emphasis. "Often."

"One, fiancée; and you'd better take to remembering that little fact if you ever want to get any again." She rolled her eyes. "Two, as a matter of fact, I think he got laid before you did. So, honestly, you're talking yourself into a hole with all of this nonsense."

"He _what_!" Edward stood and began marching to the door in a huff. Winry was way ahead of him. The door was latched shut, her body now blocking the way of exit. Doubly barricaded.

"Think twice about what you're going to do. Is it worth it?"

When he made another move to barrel through her, out the door, she matched him in stance. Winry began to unbutton her shirt with what she hoped was an alluring face. "Is it really worth it?"

Ed's eyes dropped south and then up again. "Yes!"

She moved in the opposite direction, buttoning her shirt more, completely. Her expression: apathetic. "Is it? Really?"

"…no," he sighed.

"Care to help me with these buttons and forget about everything else?" Winry smiled, reaching forward for him.

He accepted her embrace, making quick work with her clothing and then his. They were very much into their lovemaking, choosing to be a little more daring this time due to the previous events of their day. The inspiration hit to tie Winry to the bed, almost in a silent, defiant gesture to his brother that would be unknown—or so they thought. Edward was too busy to notice, showing Winry that he was a silver-tongued devil in more ways than one when they were interrupted.

Al pushed open the door, peeking his head in to the room. "Brother, have you seen—oh my! I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

A half-lidded gaze full of lust quickly turned to one of pure shock. She tried to hide herself but the damage was already done. "Al! Ah!"

He shot her an aggravated look. "You know, I'd appreciate it if you didn't call out my brother's name—oh shit. Al! Are you spying on us? Get out of here!"

"Edward, he ran. I doubt he even heard that."

They stayed still, perched in their positions. Winry couldn't do much of anything, but Edward shrugged, going back to his business.

"Edward—ah! Don't you think the mood was ruined?"

"Mood? Nah. Let's see it as giving them something to aim for. And hey, at least you're calling my name this time."

"You're such an idiot." She tried to lean back, but grunted when he didn't continue. "All right, all right. Keep the pace, Elric, or I'll kick you out of bed and finish myself."


	35. Pinky Out: Ed, Winry

**Disclaimer: **Hiromu Arakawa owns Fullmetal Alchemist and anything else involved. I, therefore, own nothing.

**Author's Note**: Written for a lost cause, but it was fun to write regardless. Enjoy!

* * *

_**Again**_

**Character(s)/Pairing(s)**: Ed/Winry

_August 19, 2011_

* * *

After deciding that it would _obviously_ be the funniest story to tell for years to come, the men decided to crash Winry's bachelorette party.

The ladies' reactions were priceless, screams and squeals in abundance, when the men made their appearance.

The real fun began when Edward had somehow managed to get underneath Winry's table successfully undetected due to an extravagant tablecloth. Ed received a solid kick to the shoulder when he planted a rather wet kiss on her inner thigh.

High heels hurt, most definitely, but his preexisting buzz from his own party numbed the throbbing pain. Besides, this barely hurt compared to reattaching limbs. Ed's eyes were closed, thankfully, when he felt a sudden, cool splash to his face. Wiping his eyes, he licked the drink off his lips. "Another round!" he shouted, pleased with the taste.

Winry, amused yet disgruntled he couldn't _let her have one thing _to herself, rolled her eyes at his behavior and pulled him up to sit. After shuffling around, she now sat, perched on his lap. When the waiter returned with another round of drinks, Ed took one look at the bright pink cocktail and winced.

"That's what you were drinking?"

"What did you think it would be?"

Pause. "Something less pink."

"Tough. You're just going to have to man-up and accept you like a girly drink."

He shrugged, giving in to sip the martini.

"Pinky out, Edward," Winry teased.

The whole bar heard her shriek when he pinched her backside in retaliation.


End file.
